


Broken Things

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 1880s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Cowboy Life, F/M, Romance, ranch life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 63,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: The year is 1886, William Mulder owns a horse ranch in northern Texas.  The widow of a neighboring landowner has something he wants.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 568
Kudos: 374





	1. The Willis Widow

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that this fic will contain ‘off-camera’ references to violence and abuse of various kinds. I will not be tagging individual TWs on the chapters.

**Prologue**

Many years from now, when he tells the tales of his younger days, he will claim that this is the day that changed his life forever. If that horse hadn’t thrown a shoe, well then. His wife will roll her eyes at this, tell him that any number of events prior to that day had already changed his life forever. The decision to leave Massachusetts for the open prairie, for example, had changed his life forever. The fact that his father had sent him to live with his aunt in the countryside instead of keeping him in the city had changed his life forever. The pony he received for his birthday when he was a child had clearly changed his life forever.

All of that will hindsight one day. Right now, it’s just an ordinary Thursday, the 9th of September, 1886. The weather is mild, almost cool compared to the heat wave that had hit in the latter half of August. And William Mulder’s horse has thrown a shoe.

**Chapter 1**

Normally, Mulder (only his family ever called him William) sends his ranch hand, Melvin, to take care of small errands and menial tasks, but he hasn’t been to town in almost a month and he could use a change of pace. He hitches one of his more reliable horses to his wagon and takes one of the ones in training as well, one he’s just broken in, to see how he handles on the hour-long ride. Their first stop is Gray’s Blacksmith.

After tying the horses to the post, Mulder gives them both a good scratching about the neck for a job well done and receives a snort and whinny of appreciation. “Well done, boys,” he says. “Carrots and apples at home for both of you if you keep up the good work.”

The familiar sound of clanking and hammering and the crackle of fire greets Mulder as he steps into the open door of the blacksmith’s. He tips his hat to the striker, who nods a greeting. The blacksmith turns and nods as well.

“Mr. Gray,” Mulder says.

“Mr. Mulder,” the blacksmith answers, passing his tongs to his assistant and then removing his gloves to shake hands. “What can I do for ya?”

“Faithful Jenny’s thrown a shoe. Melvin’s fixing her up, but I figured it was a good time to pick up a crate of nails and shoes.”

“Come on back and take a look then. How’s business?”

“Doing well. We’re training up a half dozen draft horses for the postal service right now.”

“Is the rumor you pulled in a mustang a few weeks ago true?”

“Afraid so.”

“You ain’t got a broken neck far as I can tell, so you must be faring alright with him then.”

“You can see him for yourself when I take this cart out to the wagon.”

“You brung him with ya?”

“I did.”

“I’ll be.”

Mulder feels a surge of pride when the blacksmith comes out to admire the horse. He slides the crate of shoes and nails into the back of the wagon and then shows off his friendship with the four-legged beast by rubbing his belly. The horse scratches the ground with his front hoof and shakes his head.

“You sure got a way, Mr. Mulder,” Mr. Gray says. “If you got any stock you’re looking to sell I heard there’s a new homesteader a ways south that was interested.”

“I’m on my way to the mercantile. I’ll be sure to ask John.”

The two men shake hands once again before Mulder gets back in his wagon. He smiles to himself when the blacksmith watches him leave. He’s made a name for himself in the short while he’s been here breaking and training up horses. Folks in the area have said time and again that there isn’t a horse he can’t tame, that it’s almost downright spooky the way he seems to be able to talk to them.

There’s a man being waited on in the mercantile that Mulder doesn’t recognize, probably someone just passing through. He waits for John Byers to finish with the customer, browsing the Montgomery Ward & Co. catalog at the end of the counter.

“Mulder,” John says after ringing the man up at the till. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, John.” He pulls a shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it. “I’m sure you’re better at translating Melvin’s chicken scratches than me at this point.”

“I believe I can manage.” John chuckles and takes the shopping list. He pulls a crate down and begins to collect items off the shelves and William goes back to the catalogue, thumbing past the illustrations of ladies’ garments to find menswear.

“If I put in an order for denim trousers for me and the boys you think they’ll be in by winter?”

“I’d say it’s likely.”

“Mr. Gray mentioned there were some new homesteaders interested in horses.”

“He must mean Mr. Campbell. It’s oxen he’s after, I believe.”

“If you hear otherwise, send him my way.”

“I’ll do that. I suppose you heard about your neighbor?”

“What neighbor is that?”

“Jack Willis.”

“Haven’t heard a thing. What about him?”

“He spent all of Saturday night at the saloon in a poker game and was found dead in a ditch just outside of town on Sunday morning.”

“Robbed?”

“I should actually say he spent all Saturday night losing in a poker game and downing whiskey like water. I heard he stumbled his way into that ditch of his own accord and met an untimely demise.”

“I only met him the once, but that doesn’t surprise me much. Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but the man had a disagreeable disposition. He seemed like the type to get himself into trouble.”

“Well, the bank is soon to be after his widow. I’ve heard he’s in arrears. I’m actually surprised the Sheriff didn’t stop on at your place on his way out there to tell her about her husband’s death.”

“Didn’t know he had a widow. And you know Sheriff Doggett, he’s all business.”

“My Susannah saw them together, he and his wife, the day they passed through looking for land, and you know Susannah, she was beside herself at the notion of another woman come to town, but then no one’s seen hide nor hair of her since.”

“I still regret having been back east when Old Man Goodwin passed. I’ve had my eye on that land for quite some time.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it to you.”

Mulder rubs at his chin in thought. “You say the bank is about to repossess?”

“That’s the rumor. I don’t think Mr. Skinner would relish evicting a new widow, but there probably isn’t much he can do if the mortgage is late.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a ride out to pay my respects and assess the situation. Thank you, John.”

Byers nods and gestures to the items laid out on the counter. “I’ll have John Jr. load the cart for you. Would you like this on your account?”

“I’ll square up everything now, but go ahead and order those trousers.”

The hour ride back home gives Mulder time to think. He’s in a position to offer the Willis widow a handsome sum for his neighboring acres. The one and only time he’d met Jack Willis he was immediately soured on trying to form any kind of friendship with him. The man had been downright surly and abrasive and he sure hopes the widow is more neighborly.

Melvin takes over the wagon when Mulder arrives home and shows him the new shoe on Faithful Jenny. The older man is at least a foot closer to the ground than Mulder and proudly displays a life-long love of hearty biscuits around his middle, but there’s no better right-hand man that Mulder could ask for. He’s foreman and farrier, counselor and cook. There isn’t anything Mulder doesn’t trust him with. As they unload the wagon together, he tells him about what he heard from John Byers.

“Well, there’s no harm in asking,” Melvin offers as advice. “If’n the bank really is after her, she might be grateful for the offer. You should probably get out there as soon as possible in case anyone else might be sniffin’ around for them acres.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“You know if’n I’d heard about Bob Goodwin any sooner I’d have snatched up them acres for you before I could even send a wire.”

“I know, it’s not your fault. Do me a favor, old man, tack up Blondie while I try to make myself presentable.”

“That could take hours. Days even.”

“Decades, in your case. If it’s even possible.”

The two men laugh over their gentle ribbing of each other and Mulder claps Melvin on the shoulder. He parts from his friend to go wash his face, comb his hair, and put on a fresh shirt. His horse is saddled and ready to go when he comes back out.

“Good luck,” Melvin tells him.

A narrow, slow-moving creek divides Mulder’s property from the Willis widow’s land. It’s one he’s crossed many times when Old Man Goodwin was his neighbor. He knows where the shallowest spot is to lead the horse and where the shrubs are too thick and have to be avoided. He tries not to daydream about what he’ll do with an expansion, but he passes the spot he’d like to clear out for a better corral and where he’d like to add another stable and it’s hard not to hope. 

The old sod house that Old Man Goodwin had slapped together is still standing, though it looks to have seen better days. The roof needs patching and the walls are crumbling in spots. He dismounts Blondie when he’s still a few yards away and leads the horse over to the post he knows is at the side of the house. The nearby trough which is usually full of water is empty. The chickens that were usually clucking and underfoot are nowhere to be seen.

Mulder knocks lightly on the clapboard door and moments later a woman with the reddest hair and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen answers.

**↭**

Katherine is expecting the knock when it comes, though it’s sooner than she thought it would be. In the days since her husband’s death, she’s racked her brain for a solution to her current predicament, but has come up empty handed. She doesn’t delay in answering the door. She may be on the verge of being destitute and homeless, but she’ll face it with dignity.

“Uh, Mrs. Willis, I presume?” the man asks. He stammers a bit but he has an easy, congenial smile that catches her a little off guard. She’d been expecting the Sheriff she’d met on Sunday, but perhaps the bank manager in this town takes care of evictions. 

“Mr. Skinner, I presume?” she finally replies.

The man chuckles and removes his hat. “Ah, no Ma’am,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I’m afraid I have a bit more hair than our dear Mr. bank manager.”

“Oh.” She should have known. The bank managers she’s had dealings with in the past were stuffy and pinched. This man is far too rugged and handsome to be a bank manager.

“William Mulder.” He holds out his hand to her and when she gives him hers, he bows slightly and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles. Embarrassed, she pulls her hand back and closes it into a fist to hide her dirty and calloused palms from him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“I know we haven’t met before, but I happen to be your neighbor just to the south. I heard about your husband and I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“I see. Would you...care to come in, then?”

“Thank you.”

He has to bend to step through the low-frame of the door. She has no candles, but there’s enough light from the open door and the unpatched holes in the walls that it’s unnecessary. She watches him look the place over and she can tell he’s not impressed by the shabbiness of it all. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says.

He smiles politely. “That’s alright, Ma’am. I came to be neighborly, but there is also a matter I wanted to discuss regarding this land.”

“Oh?” Fear grips her suddenly. He may not be the bank man, and he may not be the sheriff, but he could be another kind of lawman. Even if he was telling the truth that he was her neighbor, he could still be there to turn her out, or worse yet, remove her to debtor’s prison. Unconsciously, she begins to tremble.

“Mrs. Willis?” he asks. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, pulling the tattered shawl draped over her shoulders a little tighter across her chest. “A chill is all.”

He looks around again. “You’ve no chair to sit on?”

“No.” 

“Would you like to come back outside? Perhaps it will be warmer. You could sit on my horse.”

The absurdity of the offer makes her laugh and eases her anxiety somewhat. He bites his lower lip almost shyly and tips his chin down as he turns the hat over in his hands again. She stares at his mouth, thinking about how the slight overbite he has seems to suit him well. She notes other things too, in the silence. Like how his beard is well-trimmed and his nails are clean. He presents himself as a cowboy, but she knows a city man when she sees one.

“Um, Mrs. Willis, I…”

She flinches at the name. “Katherine,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d prefer you call me Katherine.”

He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles. “Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,” he murmurs.

She can’t help but lift her right eyebrow. It used to irritate her husband immensely when she pulled faces, as he called it. “Rather Kate the Curst,” she replies.

His eyes widen and seem to brighten. “You know Shakespeare?” 

“You look surprised.”

“No, no, it’s just...I haven’t had much opportunity to discuss the Bard out here. Apologies for the Taming of the Shrew reference, but whenever I come across a Katherine, I can’t help but make the association. Especially when it’s not altogether untrue.”

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks with the compliment that she knows is entirely unwarranted. She was never very pretty. Her mother used to complain about how wild and curly her hair was when she was a child, not to mention the dreadful freckles across her nose and cheeks. It may have been quite some time since she’s been in the presence of a looking glass, but she doesn’t need one to know that her appearance is lacking. 

“I suppose I could have just as easily been a Viola or an Ophelia,” she says, avoiding his flattery. 

“Hopefully not a Lady MacBeth.”

“No.” The conversation stalls momentarily, but then she wets her lips and tightens her shawl again. “You said there was something you came to speak with me about?”

“I was away on some business when Old Man...ah, that is, when Mr. Goodwin, the previous owner of your land, passed on. I’d been eyeing this parcel for some time and had been planning to offer Mr. Goodwin a sum to sell it to me. I’d like to make you that same offer.”

“Ah.” She closes her eyes and chuckles mirthlessly for a brief moment. “I’m afraid I can’t take that offer.”

“Have you sold to someone else?”

“No, but I’m not in a position to sell. My husband leased this land and I have every reason to doubt he ever made good on the rent. He drank most of the money and gambled what was left of that.”

“I see.” 

“I’m just biding my time now until the bank comes to collect and turn me out.”

“Do you have people back...wherever it is that you're from?”

“Virginia.”

“It’s not but a few days ride to Fort Worth, I could send a wire to someone for you.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“No.” She shakes her head slowly and sighs. “There’s no one back home, but thank you.”

He shifts his feet and tries to speak, but he says nothing. He looks dumbfounded in a way that almost makes her feel sorry for him.

“Was that all?” she asks.

“Ma’am,” he stammers. “Mrs. Willis...Katherine...I can’t...I can’t…”

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but she reaches out and puts her hand over his where it grips the brim of his hat. He falls silent and stops his fidgeting. She squeezes his hand lightly and lets her fingers rest against his wrist for a few moments before she takes it away. 

“Since you seem familiar with the bank man,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll get your wish soon enough.”

“But…”

“Good day to you, Mr. Mulder. Thank you for coming.”


	2. A Proposed Solution

Mulder blinks in surprise at the widow’s sudden dismissal. He’s overwhelmingly concerned for the welfare of this woman he’s just met and he has no idea what to do about it, but he does know he can’t just leave her here. 

Moments ago he was looking around this house, thinking that it might just crumble around them where they stood. The place looks to be already abandoned, far worse than when Old Man Goodwin was living here, and he wasn’t much of a housekeeper. There are no furnishings. No dishware or pots and pans that he can see. No lamps. Not a knick knack or vase of flowers. She has nothing. Less than nothing, really, and he finds that to be unbearable.

The only thing Mulder knows about the widow, Katherine, is that she’s well-spoken and has been educated. Somewhere along the way there has to have been a fall from grace. Life has handed her a raw deal, that much he can gather, but there’s a spark of determination in her to keep her head above it all. She’s utterly captivated him and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let anything happen to her.

A wild idea pops into his head and he’s never been one to pass on a whim, wild or not. His gut tells him what he’s thinking might be crazy, but he’s followed his gut on crazier notions before and he’s learned to trust his instincts.

“Marry me,” he says.

“I’m...sorry?” Katherine asks. Her right eyebrow lifts into a perfectly peaked arch and he’s never found anything so endearing in his life.

“Hear me out before you object.”

“I’m listening.”

“Do you have a copy of the lease your husband signed?”

“I do.”

“May I see it?”

She hesitates for a moment, but then turns and moves to the back of the room. She reaches under the bedstead and returns with a tattered bible which she thumbs through and takes out a folded scrap of paper. He takes it from her, unfolds it, and then reads it. 

“This is good,” he says. “Exactly as I’d hoped. Your husband signed a five-year lease with an option to purchase at the end of the term. Do you know if he has a will?”

“None I’m aware of.”

“And there are no children?”

Her lips part on a breath and then she closes them again and swallows before answering. “I am unable to have children.”

“I see.” He folds the lease agreement back along the original creases and hands it back to her. She slips it into the pages of the bible again. “Well, in the absence of any will, you would be the sole beneficiary. If we were to marry, I would assume your assets as well as your debts. I can pay what’s owed and if Mr. Skinner will allow it, make good on the option early. And you do know that it would also mean that what I own becomes yours as well.”

“I am quite certain you could own this land without marrying me.”

“That’s true I probably could. But, then where would that leave you?”

“I haven’t quite solved that particular problem yet, but you certainly don’t need to concern yourself with it.”

“Oh, but I do. Now that I know you, I can’t leave you here. You’ll be removed from the property soon enough and with no people to come for you or to return to...well, I couldn’t stand by and see that happen. My conscience would not allow it.”

“I could find work.”

“Out here? The only spot in town that would hire you is a house of ill-repute. Unless you plan to walk to Fort Worth, and even then there aren’t a lot of...look, I bet you know how to mend things? Cook some? Clean?”

“Of course.”

“I would offer you a job in that respect, but towns are small and people talk. If I take you on as a single woman to a ranch with six men about, people may think something improper was going on and that would affect business.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Mr. Mulder.”

“All my friends just call me Mulder. You might not be my responsibility, but I happen to like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re smart and you’re kind and I enjoy speaking with you. And I know you don’t deserve to be put out on the street with nowhere to go and no people to turn to.” 

She looks down and away from him and he moves his hand out to lift her chin, but thinks better of it and doesn’t touch her. He knows horses a lot better than he knows people, and hardly knows a thing about women, but she reminds him of a spooked colt and he doesn’t want to overwhelm her and cause her to retreat. Horses will hurt themselves out of fear, and she just might do the same.

“Think of it as a business arrangement,” he says. “You will be in charge of the household duties, and if you ever decide you’d like to leave, I will be sure you’ll go with the value of this land in your pocket.”

“Cooking, cleaning, mending,” she mumbles. “What else might you be expecting?”

“I’m not looking for sport, if that’s what you’re thinking. I told you, there’s a house in town and If it was sport I was after, there are certainly far cheaper alternatives. Excuse me for being blunt.”

“No, I appreciate your honesty.”

“You can trust me.”

“I’d like to believe that.” With her head still lowered, she reaches up and brushes the side of her hand across her eye. “What if one day you find a woman you actually wish to marry? Start a family. What would happen then?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have a singular focus and nothing else matters to me. But, if you should wish to marry, one day-”

“I won’t,” she says quickly, and firmly, shaking her head down at the floor. “I do not wish to marry again. I mean...aside from what you’re proposing.” 

“Is that a yes?”

“You would really do all of this for a bit of land?”

“It’s good land.” He pauses and twists his lips for a moment or two. “But, as I’ve told you, it’s not just for the land.”

She finally glances up at him, but then quickly looks away again.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asks.

“I believe God has a plan for everyone.” Her brows furrow. “But, fate? Logically, I would have to say no.”

“One of my horses threw a shoe today. I wasn’t supposed to go into town this morning, and yet I did. If Faithful Jenny hadn’t thrown that shoe, I wouldn’t have been in town and I wouldn’t have found out about your husband. If I hadn’t found out about your husband, I wouldn’t have ridden out here. If I wouldn’t have ridden out here, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“But, if you weren’t away on business, you could have had this land six months ago, as you said.”

“Exactly my point. If I had purchased this plot six months ago, you never would’ve shown up here. I think this is meant to be. I think this is fate.” 

“I don’t know about that, but...may I have a day to think this over?”

“Of course you may. And please, let me take you away from here. There are coyotes and bears that are apt to prowl around at night and this door doesn’t look very stable. Not to mention the drifters that pass through and the Indians that roam about, though they won’t usually do you any harm unless provoked. Still, I’d feel better if you’d come with me now.”

“Wouldn’t that look improper?” she asks, and her brow quirks again, only this time it feels a little more playful. 

“Yes, Ma’am, it would, if I were to bring you home. I was planning on setting you up in town.”

“Surely not to the house of ill-repute?”

He smiles, glad that she’s in good enough humor to engage in a bit of banter. “John Byers and his wife Susannah operate the mercantile in town. They also have extra room since their boy, Franklin, has gone off to school. When I tell you that Susannah would be delighted for a lady friend, it might be an understatement.”

“If I leave with you, what if Mr. Skinner shows up?”

“I’ll handle Skinner.”

↭

Leaving with this stranger will not be the most rash thing she’s ever done, but it will be high on the list amongst the impetuous things she has done in her life. There’s something about him though that calms her insecurities and makes her feel like she can trust him. Besides, there really doesn’t seem to be any other option except to sit and wait to be evicted.

“Bring with you whatever you might need for a short time,” he tells her. “We can come back with a cart for anything else.”

But, there is nothing to come back for once she packs her nightgown, her bible, a tin cup, a broken hair comb, and a deerskin blanket into a burlap sack she’s been toting for the last few years. He looks at the sack and then at her and around the small sod house as if he’s waiting for more possessions to magically present themselves.

“This is everything I have,” she tells him. 

“Alright then.” He nods and puts his hat back on.

His horse is very fine looking. Yellow, with a white mane. It whinnies when it sees him and he scratches it under the chin and rubs its nose. For a moment, it almost looks as though they’re holding a private conversation, with the horse nodding and whinnying and Mulder whispering softly to it. The horse scrapes a front hoof into the dirt and Mulder pats it gently on the shoulder.

“This is Blondie,” he says, smiling as he turns to her. “I was letting her know to be on her best behavior while you’re on her back. Do you ride?”

“I’ve ridden some when I was younger. I can walk, though.”

“We have to cross a creek up a bit and you’ll be safer and drier up here. Don’t worry, she’s nice and gentle. I’ll lead her. All you have to worry about is sitting straight and not falling off.”

“And getting up.” She eyes the stirrups on the saddle and estimates they’re at least as high as her shoulders.

Mulder chuckles and takes the sack from her. She notes the consideration he takes in placing it down on a patch of grass a few feet away and doesn’t drop it in the dirt. He comes back very close to the horse’s side and lunges forward a bit and slaps his knee.

“Go on and grab the saddle horn with your left hand and step on up with your left foot. You may have to lift your skirts a bit to throw your leg on over.”

It takes her three starts to gain the momentum to hoist herself up. She does what he tells her to though and gathers her skirts up. She knows she should be embarrassed by the holes in her shoes and that she has no stockings, but she lost the ability to care about such things a long time ago.

“Well done,” he says, and then passes the sack up to her. “I’m going to adjust these stirrups to fit and we’ll be on our way.”

He works the buckles and straps swiftly and expertly and apologizes for touching her ankle when her foot momentarily gets in the way. After he’s done, he brings the reins down over the horse’s head and turns it away from the house. Katherine realizes, once they’re some ways away, that she never even had the thought of turning back for a last look.

He tells her about the potential he sees in the land as they walk. He tells her about the corral he’d like to put up and how he would like to expand his business of training horses.

“You’re not from here,” she says at one point when he’s lost in his rambling.

“No, I grew up back east. Massachusetts.”

“How did you come to be so interested in horses?”

“Hand down that sack and hold on tight here, we’ll be crossing the creek and the horse could slip.”

She gives him her burlap bag and holds firm to the horn of the saddle. He throws the sack over one shoulder and guides the horse towards a small embankment and then tests the footing before they cross. She’s barely jostled by it. He stomps his boots once they’re back on dry land and hands the sack back up to her.

“That’s my girl,” he says, patting the horse lightly on the neck. The horse snorts and its ears twitch. “That creek was the dividing line of our properties.”

“Perhaps not for long.”

“Hopefully.”

The faint aroma of fire is in the air and she can see a thin curl of grey smoke in the distance. She sees Mr. Mulder breathe deep and then smile broadly.

“Looks like Melvin has noon dinner on the stove,” he says. “We’ll eat before we head into town.”

She doesn’t tell him, but she hasn’t eaten for almost three days. The pump behind the house gave plenty of water, but their food stock was depleted even before her late husband left last Saturday. She was able to boil some dandelions for a couple of days, but quickly ran out of matchsticks. Her stomach clenches and her mouth waters at the thought of food.

“So, you want to know how I came by the horse business,” he says.

“Mmhm,” she murmurs.

“When I was five years of age, there was a cholera outbreak in Boston. My parents, in their wisdom, felt that the city was unsafe for their children and they sent us away to live with my father’s dowager aunt at her country estate.”

“Was that difficult? Being away from your parents?”

“Not at all, actually. Auntie was a great lover of the outdoors and of children. She cared for my sister and I like we were her own, spoiled us as though we were as well. She gave me a little pony with a little cart for my birthday and that’s where it started, I suppose.”

“What happened when you went back to Boston?”

“Ah, well. I didn’t.”

  
“You didn’t?”

“The cholera took my mother. My father was not as equipped to care for children as Auntie was. He allowed my aunt to adopt us and then he eventually remarried and I have a younger stepbrother named Jeffrey who I don’t know much about except that he’s probably of the age to start college soon enough.”

“And what about your sister?”

“Her name was Samantha.”

“Was? Oh. I’m sorry to have-”

“You do not have to apologize.” He stops the horse and looks up at her. “It was a long time ago. She was eight when she passed on. Smallpox. She loved horses even more than I do. Blondie was actually her horse. Of course, she was a bitty little filly at the time, but Sam made me promise to take care of her, and I have. She’s been with me nigh on thirteen years now.”

Katherine doesn’t know what to say to this. The small smile Mulder gives her after he stroke’s the horse’s cheek is a sad one. It’s a painful reminder of the grief she also carries that she’s never spoken so freely about. She’s never spoken about it at all, in fact, and she can’t ever see a time when she will be able to.

The rest of the journey to the ranch is in silence.


	3. Introductions

Melvin is out the door as soon as Mulder is in eyesight of the ranch house. He can see the older man step out onto the porch and then stand a little taller and pull the tails of his vest taut.

“Am I wrong, or does my nose detect the makings of noon dinner on the stove?” Mulder calls.

“With the size of that nose, you’re probably smelling what’s cooking in Fort Worth,” Melvin answers back.

Mulder chuckles and brings Blondie to a stop in front of the house. He motions for Katherine’s bag and then takes her hand while she gathers her skirts and brings her leg over the side of the horse. He holds her about the waist to help her down and she pitches forward slightly and ends up pressed close to him. He eases her to her feet and keeps his arm around her for maybe a bit too long, but it feels nice to him to have her there.

“Who’s this marvelous young lady you brung to us?” Melvin asks, and the moment is broken.

“She’s called Katherine,” Mulder answers. “Send Trevor on out to put up Blondie, I’d like to bring our guest in and introduce her. Set another plate for dinner.”

“Trevor,” Melvin calls over his shoulder. He takes a small hop down from the porch and reaches for Katherine’s hand. “Melvin Frohike at your service. Welcome to Broke In, lovely lady.”

“The name of the ranch,” Mulder explains to Katherine. “Alright, settle down, old man. You act as though you haven’t seen a pretty woman before.” He kicks Melvin lightly in the seat of his pants just as the young ranch hand that he had requested be sent out appears on the porch with a napkin tucked into his shirt. “Trevor, excuse me for interrupting your dinner, could you please put Blondie up?”

“Yes, Sir.” The boy takes the lead from Mulder and takes the horse away.

“Alright, come in, come in,” Mulder says.

Melvin scurries down the dogtrot ahead of Mulder and Katherine. “You boys make yourselves presentable, we got a lady in the house,” he calls.

There’s a scraping of chairs and utensils. Richard and Jimmy jump to their feet, wiping their mouths on their napkins. Jesse stays sitting, slurping from his bowl until he looks up and then jumps up as well, spilling stew on the table and dribbling on his chin. 

Mulder removes his hat as they move down the broad hall and hangs it on a peg just outside the door of the dining area. He hangs Katherine’s sack there beside his hat and guides her into the room ahead of him.

“Boys,” he says. “This is Katherine. She’ll be joining us for dinner and then accompanying me into town. Katherine, that blonde beanpole over there to the left is Richard, and then we have Jimmy beside him and the creature without any table manners is his brother Jesse.”

“Ma’am,” they all murmur.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Katherine answers. 

“Go ahead and sit yourself here,” Mulder says, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for her. After she sits, the rest of the men do as well, glancing at her and each other as though they’re searching for the proper etiquette to resume their meal. Melvin is already ladling out a bowl of stew for her and he passes it to her along with a spoon and a napkin.

“Some lemonade, Madam?” Melvin asks. “We got cold tea or coffee too if’n you have druthers.”

“The lemonade would be fine, thank you.”

As Mulder dishes out his own dinner, he observes there’s a slight tremor in Katherine’s hand when she picks up her spoon. He also notices that her breathing is slightly labored, coming short and fast from parted lips. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but with nothing in that sod house, this might be her first meal in some time.

“Melvin, do you think we might still have a tin of soda crackers in one of those cupboards?” he asks.

“I reckon we sure might.” The little man hops up from the table and begins to search the cabinets. He returns triumphant with a tin which he hands off to Mulder. Mulder opens it and then passes it across the table to Katherine.

“Stew might be a little heavy for this time of day unless you’ve been laboring,” Mulder says. “The crackers will soak up the broth nicely though.”

“Thank you,” she answers, with a nod, taking the tin from him.

Normally, the boys rush through noon dinner, eager to get back to their chores and the horses, but they eat slowly. Jesse even attempts to hold a spoon, which Mulder has never seen him do before. Trevor returns and has to squeeze his way into a place at the bench seating beside Richard and Jimmy. Melvin dominates the conversation with business chatter, giving Mulder a run down on what some of the horses have been up to all morning. 

One by one, Jesse, Richard, Jimmy, and then finally Trevor excuse themselves to continue their work. Each man brings his bowl and cup to a wash basin near the stove and they nod politely to Katherine before they leave. Mulder asks Trevor to please hitch up the Tilbury to go into town shortly. Melvin gets up to start cleaning dishes and Katherine quickly rises as well.

“I can help,” she says.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Melvin answers, waving his napkin at her. “You are our guest of honor, my dear, and you won’t lift a finger.”

“Don’t you worry about him,” Mulder says, wiping his mouth before he rises from his seat. “Let me show you the place before we leave.”

She looks to Melvin. “If you’re sure I can’t help.”

“You go on with Mulder.”

“Well, now, you’ve seen our kitchen and dining area, let’s come back through the dogtrot and I’ll show you the rooms.”

“The dogtrot?”

“That’s what we call this open hall here. We keep the front door open most days and the back door as well. It’s good for circulation. In case you hadn’t noticed, it can reach the same temperature as hellfire out here on the coldest summer day. This helps with the heat.”

“That’s quite clever.”

“I thought so as well. Now this first door on the left is where I sleep. And this one here to the right will be yours, if you decide to stay on.”

“Mine?”

“It’s a guest room right now. Occasionally there’s a need for people that travel through for business dealings with me to have a place to stay.”

“I can’t take that, then. I could easily just take a bit of space in the kitchen. If I stay on, that is.”

“You will do no such thing.” Mulder opens the door to the room. “It’s not much but the necessities right now but you can make it up however you like.”

Sensing a protest coming, Mulder moves them on to the last room, across from the kitchen and dining area. He has saved the best for last in the hopes of impressing her. He pauses with his hand on the knob.

“This is the washroom,” he says.

↭

She’s feeling overwhelmed. Mulder has just shown her a room, in the house, which holds a copper and wooden bathing tub and an indoor pump and stove for heating water. He tries to explain a system of pipes and wells and how they work, but he gives up and tells her he actually doesn’t have a clue how it really operates, just that it does. The boys, he says, don’t trust it, and prefer to go into town for a Saturday night bath and shave. Not only that, in the back of the room there’s a closet which is really a privy. She’s never seen anything like it.

After they leave the washroom, the tour of the ranch continues out of the back door. A rather large water tower stands some yards away. To the east of the main house is a bunkhouse the ranch hands share and to the west of the house is a barn, stables, and a corral. She’s surprised to learn that there are more than just horses kept here. In fact there are chickens, two cows, several hogs and a handful of suckling pigs, some sheep, two goats, and a black and white herding dog called Queenie.

“We call her that because she thinks she runs the place,” Mulder says.

“Mulder!” Richard calls from the barn door. “Trevor says you want the carriage hitched up. You want the hackney since Faithful Jenny needs to break in the new shoe?”

“That’s fine,” Mulder tells him. Richard tips his hat in acknowledgment and disappears back into the barn.

“How many horses do you have here?” Katherine asks.

“Right now, fifteen. Six of them should be leaving us by the month’s end and then I’ll be bringing back more to replace them.”

“What do you do with them?”

“Take care of the ones that need taking care of. For the others, break them, train them up. Sell them. Board them at times.”

“I can see why you prefer the land I was on. Why you’d want it.”

“You can?”

“It’s flatter. More prairie grass. And full access to the creek.”

“All true.”

Richard and Trevor interrupt the conversation by bringing the carriage out with a horse the color of mahogany and a black mane. All four of the horse’s legs are snow white and it has a white diamond just above the nose. She almost gasps it’s such a breathtaking creature.

“That’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“You like her?”

“She’s so...majestic.”

“That is precisely why she earned the name Lady. Let’s go get your bag and then we’ll head on into town.”

He insists she borrow a leather valise to use instead of her burlap sack and she transfers her meager possessions into the case. He carries the bag for her out to the carriage and ties it to a shelf just under the seat. He helps her up and once she’s settled, he and Richard unfold an accordion top to shade them from the sun.

The carriage rides a little smoother than a wagon. It bounces a bit and moves fast. She’s only been to town one time and she’s unfamiliar with the road. The land is so vast and it all looks the same. She can’t believe she had been considering walking to Fort Worth. She would never make it if she tried.

“You know all there is to know about me,” Mulder says. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“I’m sure I don’t know all that there is.”

“Everything important, I would say.”

Her palms begin to sweat and she hides her hands in the folds of her skirt. If she tells him everything about herself, he might change his mind about everything. He might not be so kind to her. She doesn’t feel right about deceiving such a nice man, but there are things she must withhold for now. At least until she’s absolutely certain he would not look at her differently or think less of her.

“I’m not very interesting,” she says.

“You said you’re from Virginia. Whereabouts?”

“Norfolk.”

“What’s your family name?”

She hesitates for a beat to decide if it’s too much. “O’Brien,” she finally answers. It’s a half-truth. The O’Brien are her mother’s people. 

“Irish? Did your people immigrate from the famine?”

“I don’t know.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“I told you before, there’s no one.”

“Yes, you did tell me.”

He doesn’t ask her any more questions and she feels a bit ashamed of herself for rebuffing him. She takes a few surreptitious glances at him to see if he might be affronted, but he appears to be passively concentrating on driving the carriage.

“Would you like to try?” he asks.

“Try what?”

“Driving the carriage.”

“This carriage?”

He laughs. “I don’t see another out here. You can’t do any damage, here, take the lines.”

“Oh, no, I…”

“Sure you can.” He pulls the carriage to a stop and then passes the lines over to her. “You’re driving from the right, so with your left hand, just lay the strap down over your index finger and hold it down with your thumb.”

“Alright.” She does as he asks and then looks to him for further instruction.

“And now slide this strap between the third and fourth fingers of your right hand, like so.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect. I’m going to slide the whip into the grip of your right hand here and you’ll keep it angled with the natural tilt of your wrist. Now, you just tickle Lady’s back lightly and tell her to walk.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. This road is pretty straight so there shouldn’t be any worries. If she acts up, I’m right here. And if your arms tire, let me know.”

“Alright.” Her heart quickens a bit so she can feel it thump against her chest and she sits up straighter in the seat.

“Keep the lines slack as well, just like you’re doing now.”

“Okay.” She turns her wrist a little so that the tassel that dangles from the end of the whip lightly touches the horse’s back. “Lady, walk now, please.”

Mulder laughs and she smiles broadly when the horse starts to walk forward. Her grip on the lines feels awkward and unnatural and it takes more effort than she thought it would to keep them slack and light. Her back and shoulders are soon sore, but she does not want to give up the control that quickly. Maybe ten minutes pass before she tires to the point that her arms grow heavy.

“I think I need to stop now,” she says.

“Put a bit of pressure on the lines, very slowly.”

“Whoa,” she says, but the horse does not stop.

“Whoa, Lady,” Mulder calls, and he covers Katherine’s hands with his own, adding the appropriate amount of pressure to bring her to a stop. 

His hands linger and her heart quickens again. She wants more of something in that moment that she can’t understand or describe. She imagines turning her palms up to him and letting her fingers slide into his. She imagines pressing a little closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. She imagines him putting his arm around her. She imagines a peace that she’s never even experienced before.

His hands move off of hers and she gives him control of the lines and sits back, rubbing her hands over each other to work out a little of the soreness in her wrists. He starts the carriage forward again and announces that they should be in town shortly.


	4. What Kind of Man is He?

John Byers steps out onto the porch of the mercantile as Mulder sets the brake in place on the carriage. “Twice in one day, Mulder, is anything the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing at all,” Mulder answers. “Is Susannah about?”

“She’s just inside.”

Mulder steps down from the carriage as John calls to his wife. Susannah appears as Mulder is assisting Katherine down from her seat. The first time Mulder met the Byers he wondered how they ever came to be married. John is small and meek, dark-haired, keeps a well-trimmed beard and is fastidious about his person and his store. Susannah is fair-haired and fair-skinned, taller than her husband and broader in the shoulders. She is boisterous and jovial and, Mulder knows, hungry for friendships.

“Please allow me to introduce my neighbor, Katherine Wilis,” Mulder says. “You may have heard that her husband met an unfortunate end just a few days ago.”

John looks at Mulder quizzically and Susannah practically leaps from the porch to take Katherine’s arm and embrace her. “So lovely to meet you,” she says. “I’m Susannah, and this is my husband John. We run the mercantile here and if there’s ever anything we can do for you, you just let us know.”

“Actually,” Mulder says. “Mrs. Willis is going to have to see to some affairs regarding her homestead and I thought, well, since Franklin is away at school, it may not be too much trouble for you if she could stay here for a night or two to sort things out.”

“Oh, yes!” Susannah says. “Yes, please come right in and we’ll get you settled.”

Unsurprisingly, Susannah whisks Katherine away. Mulder meets John’s eyes for a brief moment and then turns away to untie the valise from the hold under the seat.

“It seems you’ve taken responsibility for the Willis widow,” John says.

“I suppose you can say that,” Mulder answers. “I’ve asked her to marry me.”

“Marry you! And she’s taken you up on this lunatic proposal?”

“She said she’d like to think about it.”

“This is the most astonishingly foolish thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe it’s foolish or I’m just soft. You were right about the forthcoming eviction. She’s got no claim on the homestead and you should have seen the place, John. The old sod house is barely standing. I think she’s putting on a brave front, but she has less than nothing. If you could have seen her face when I showed up there, I’m almost certain she thought I had come to collect her for debtor’s prison.”

“Why not just send her back to her people, if you want to help?”

“She says she has none.”

“You’re talking about a lifelong commitment here, Mulder. Do you really want to put yourself in that position? Or her?”

“I would escort her to Fort Worth myself if I thought she’d be safe or do well there on her own, but she’s in unfamiliar territory amongst strangers. Anyone could take advantage.”

“And that’s not what you’re doing?” 

”Is that what it seems to you I’m doing?”

“I don’t know, but proposing to a woman you’ve only known for a handful of hours? Couldn’t you at least do a little courting first?”

“Actually, I proposed to her within ten minutes of knowing her.” Mulder takes the valise out of the hold and then puts a hand on John’s shoulder. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, and I know it seems rash, but I did think things through. You know I can’t hire her on as a cook or housemaid, which is what I’d do if I was back east. Bringing a young, single woman, widowed or not, onto a ranch with six bachelors? You know what that would look like, out here. Bringing a bride onto a ranch, now that’s a different story and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“I can tell you’re intent on looking out for her and I think it’s admirable, but to yoke yourself to her just because she’s run into trouble?.”

“There’s another reason too.”

“Oh?”

“I happen to like her. Now, I’m going to bring this bag in for her and then I’m going to head over to see Skinner before he closes for the day. Please, don’t mention to Katherine that I’ve gone on to the bank.”

John sniffs lightly and smooths down his shirtfront. “You know I’m not one to meddle in people’s affairs.”

Mulder laughs and claps John on the shoulder. It is well known that John Byers is the town gossip and is very rarely able to keep his opinions to himself, if their conversation just now is any indication. He heads into the store to find Katherine and discovers her in the back room with Susannah, who’s making what appears to be tea and cookies. He holds the valise up to her as a greeting.

“Ladies, I’ll be going now. Katherine, I’ll be by tomorrow morning to bring you over to Mr. Skinner.”

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

“Susannah, I’m going to trust you to outfit Katherine with whatever she might need and put it on the account.”

“Oh no,” Katherine protests. “I don’t need anything.”

“Sure you do. Boots, stockings, material, and I’m sure there are lady soaps or tinctures or baubles of some kind you could make use of.”

“That’s really unnecessary, I don’t-”

“Susannah, excuse us for just a moment.” Mulder gently cups Katherine’s elbow and leads her away out of earshot. He speaks low and close to her to make sure the conversation stays private. “If you accept my proposal, or you do not, either way there are things you’re going to need to get yourself started. You would do me an honor if you would allow me to ease that burden for you.”

“Then I should like to pay you back.”

“You can pay me back by making sure you put good use to the things you buy.”

“It won’t be anything frivolous, I promise that.”

“It could be as frivolous as you like, as long as you enjoy it.”

“I don’t understand why you’re helping me with so much and I can’t even do anything for you in return.”

“I’ve enjoyed your company thus far, and that’s more than enough.” He hands her the valise and finds that he has to restrain himself from leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright.”

He’s feeling pretty sure of himself until he leaves the mercantile and then he gets to thinking about what Byers had said and suddenly he’s less confident. He does want to marry her, he’s resolved on that, but what if what’s best for her is that he can offer her other options, not just one of marriage? She should have as many choices as she can, not just one.

He’s brooding a bit when he walks into the bank and waves his hat at Walter Skinner in greeting, trying not to scowl as he does. The bespectacled bank manager frowns a little, but he’s always frowning, in Mulder’s estimation.

“Mr. Mulder,” Skinner says, ushering him towards the side office and to his desk to sit. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m sure you’re aware that my neighbor, Jack Willis, passed on rather abruptly a few days ago.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that.” Skinner pushes his spectacles up his nose and then clasps his hands together and sits tall in his chair across from Mulder.

“What kind of trouble is Mrs. Willis looking at with the land?”

“You know I can’t discuss the accounts of other landholders with you.”

“Well, I’ll be bringing Katherine Willis by tomorrow morning to discuss the terms of the lease with you, but I’d like to know exactly how much is owed before I transfer the money.”

“You’re going to settle her account? What exactly are your intentions?”

“Only to bring the account to good standing so that Mrs. Willis may receive a fair price for transferring ownership.”

“There hasn’t been a single payment made on that lease.”

“And if I were to take it over, would the option to purchase be readily available or do I need to wait the five years to put in for it?”

Skinner gets up from his desk and moves to a filing cabinet. He rifles through it for a few moments and then pulls out a folder and sits down again. He takes a blank piece of paper from his desk drawer, wets the tip of a graphite pencil with his tongue, and then sets to work on some figures.

“You’re looking at 320 acres, last valuation at two dollars an acre. The amount owed is currently 64 dollars, plus taxes and penalties. It’ll be roughly 85 dollars to take over the lease and 736 dollars to take the option.”

“Good. Transfer the 85 now to the account. Tomorrow, I’d like you to please inform Mrs. Willis that the lease was paid timely, and in full by her late husband. How long will it take to transfer the title as beneficiary?”

“A few weeks.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know what’s become of Jack Willis’ remains, would you?”

“I hear they’re keeping him in the icehouse until the undertaker comes through.”

“I guess that means Mr. Carter is handling the arrangements. You see him, you tell him he can send the bill on to me.”

“I’ve known you to do some strange things over the years, Mulder, but you’re going to extraordinary lengths to get a piece of land you could probably purchase at half the price at auction.”

“It’s not about the money. Right now I’m going to do everything I can to make sure Katherine Willis is taken care of.”

Skinner sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. “This woman have something over you?”

“Not at all. I only met her this morning.”

Skinner raises his brows and then shakes his head. He puts the paper with the figures he’s written into the folder from the filing cabinet and then clasps his hands together again and rests them on top of the folder.

“It’s your money,” Skinner says.

“Just be sure to tell Mrs. Willis that her husband kept the account in good standing tomorrow.” Mulder stands and puts his hat back on. “Pleasure doing business with you, Skinner.”

“Mr. Mulder.”

↭

Susannah is a chatty one, Katherine thinks. Through two cups of tea, she’s heard about how her new friend met her husband, how they moved from Philadelphia to Texas ten years ago, how her eldest son is studying journalism at a college in Missouri and dreams of operating his own newspaper, and how her youngest son intends to take on the family business one day. It’s a relief that Susannah likes to talk and doesn’t pry. Mulder was right when he said that Susannah would be delighted for a lady friend.

“What can you tell me about Mr. Mulder?” Katherine asks.

“I think he’s been out here about four or five years now,” Susannah says, resting her teacup on her saucer to answer. “He’s built up a nice little ranch. Our John Jr. had riding lessons from him a few years back when he got old enough to start making deliveries with the wagon.”

“He’s been very kind to me. I wonder if it’s not...put on somehow?”

“Mulder? No, what you see is what you get with Mulder.”

“He asked me to marry him.”

Susannah freezes with her teacup almost to her lips and her eyes grow wide. She lowers her cup once again and it rattles against the saucer. “Well, my goodness,” she says. “I didn’t even know the two of you were friendly.”

“We actually just met earlier today.”

“Gracious.” Susannah cocks her head as though considering the offer. “That does seem quite in character for Mulder, though.”

“How so?”

“I think he’s the kind of man who gives in to impulse.”

“Hm.” Katherine frowns just a little and ponders on that over her tea.

“Oh no, dear, not in a silly or reckless way. Well, let me see. I was thinking about a time we used to receive deliveries from a company in Fort Worth. The delivery man, Alex was his name, we’d only had him come in a handful of times, but there was one time that Mulder happened to be in the store and he told Alex something about his horse. I think it was that it was the wrong horse for the job, or something to that effect. Alex didn’t seem to acknowledge the advice one way or the other, but the next time he came through, we all heard this fuss outside and naturally, I assumed it was probably just a ruckus spilled out of the saloon, but Mulder had Alex off his wagon in the dirt, had a switch that he was busting up over his knee, and yelling at the man that if he ever saw him beating a horse again he would take the switch to him instead of busting it up the next time.”

Katherine feels herself shrinking just a little. She has had far too much of irrational, temperamental men in her life and she won’t take on another. “Is he often violent?” she asks.

“Not at all! I’m only trying to explain that Mulder is not a passive man. He wouldn’t stand by and let an animal be mistreated and most folks will. He took that horse from Alex, paid him money for it too, I believe, and then bought him a ticket back to Fort Worth on the stagecoach. And I think he sent one of the boys from out on the ranch to make sure the rest of his deliveries were made.”

“I met the men today before we came here. They seem awfully devoted to him.”

“Yes, I would say that’s true. From what I can tell he treats them very well. Whenever he happens to be in the store he seems to find something he thinks they need.”

“He’s obviously very generous.”

“Oh, don’t let him come in on a day when some of the local children might be here. They walk away with bags of penny candy. Speaking of generosity, he told me to make sure I outfit you and you know I just remembered we got in some new calico I think would suit you fine. Let’s go and have a look at it.”

“Susannah,” Katherine says, putting her hand lightly on Susannah’s arm to hold her off from getting up just yet. “With all that you know about Mr. Mulder, do you think I should accept his proposal?”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine marrying a man I just met, but I will tell you that I think Mulder is a decent man. I don’t know of any vices he has. Definitely doesn’t partake of alcohol, he’s never purchased tobacco, and I don’t even think he’s set foot in the saloon. And it’s unlikely to be for religious purposes as he’s never been to service. Will any of that make him a good husband? I can’t say.”

Katherine nods. She isn’t looking for a good husband, or any husband at all, really, she just doesn’t want another bad one.


	5. At the End of the Day

It’s getting on to be twilight when Mulder sits down in the big chair on his porch and looks out towards the orange and pink sunset. The crickets are loud tonight, but not loud enough to interrupt his thoughts. He can’t believe not even a full day has passed since he’s met Katherine and it already feels like she’s always been on his mind.

He wonders if he’s in love with her. It shouldn’t be possible, but it just might be. He’s never been in love before, but he was almost engaged to be married once, a long time ago. He thanks his lucky stars that his aunt was still alive back then and sat him down and flat out told him that a woman like Diana Fowley would never make him a satisfactory wife. He’d been hurt at the time thinking that his aunt didn’t trust his judgement, but later determined she was probably right when he’d revealed to Diana his hopes for the future and she’d laughed at him, called him a silly boy, and told him that when they were married he’d be too busy providing a comfortable lifestyle for her to be so imaginative. He’d promptly put his mother’s ring back into the safe deposit box in Boston he’d took it out from, and the following year, when Auntie died, he’d used part of his substantial inheritance to move west and to start the ranch he’d been dreaming about.

Katherine is in no way like Diana, and he is glad for that. Though he doesn’t know much about her, from what he does know, she’s strong and kind and quick-witted. Not to mention, quite striking. He knows that he would hang the moon for her if she asked him to. Yes, he might just impossibly be in love.

“Daydreaming about the little lady?” Melvin asks, crossing in front of Mulder and taking a seat in the empty chair beside him.

“Should we call the ophthalmologist in to look at your eyes? It’s damn near midnight.”

“Maybe an ear doctor to check your hearing, the clock struck nine just before I come out.”

“Thought the only clock you paid attention to was the rooster.”

“I just said that so’s you don’t feel bad for bustin’ my pocket watch that time.”

“Melvin, I told you I would buy you the finest pocketwatch this side of the Brazos and you turned me down.”

“Bah. I don’t need no pocket watch. It was just for show to make me appear a gentleman. I would like to know if’n the lovely Katherine might be coming back to visit us soon.”

“If you haven’t frightened her away.”

“I rode on out to Old Man Goodwin’s sodhouse like you ask before you left. You could knock that place down with a feather if’n you ask me.”

“I don’t know how she was living out there, Melvin, I truly don’t.”

“The pump was in good shape and the stove was in working order. ‘Bout the only things that weren’t busted in some way.”

Mulder sighs, closes his eyes and tips his head back. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Melvin?”

“You know I do. Are you saying you love her?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I know that I already can’t wait to see her again. I’m also anxious about how she’ll answer my proposal.”

“Scared she’ll say yes, or scared she’ll say no?”

“Both, maybe. I don’t want her to turn me down, but I’m a little afraid of disappointing her if she says yes.”

“Why? ‘Cause she might get tired of lookin’ at your ugly mug every morning for the rest of her life?”

“I’m under the impression that she’s been mistreated in her previous marriage.”

“Well that much is sure to be true. You could tell just by the looks of ‘im Jack Willis was meaner than a two-headed snake.” Melvin tuts softly and shakes his head. “You recall how skittish George was when you took him from that idiot fella that was beatin’ him in the street that day?”

“Of course.” Mulder nods and then turns his head towards his friend. “I don’t know where you’re going with this analogy and I know it’s been at least a century since you’ve been of courting age, but in case you’ve forgotten, a woman is not a horse.”

“When you brung him in you said all we need is three things. Patience, patience, and patience.”

“I said that?”

“You sure did.”

“Then I’ll spend a few months avoiding eye contact, talking sweetly, scratching her shoulders, and going for long walks around the corral and everything will be fine.”

“Don’t forget to keep a hunk of sugar in your pocket.”

Mulder chuckles, but his smile fades quickly. “What if she says no?”

Melvin rubs thoughtfully at his goatee. The crickets are the only ones to answer, but they’re not much help. 

↭

Katherine lays awake, quietly staring at the ceiling. Her fingers slide against her thumbs in an unconscious reflex, pushing and pulling phantom rosary beads. The last time she spoke a word to Jack Willis it was to call him a lying bastard when she’d found out he’d sold the beads, the one thing she’d begged him not to take from her. She’d said nothing when he sold her wedding ring, nothing when he’d sold their mules, nothing when he’d sold her good dress and hat. The beads were unforgivable.

Her thoughts turn to her wedding day to Jack and how her mother had whispered ‘God is punishing you, and now you will accept your penance and pray He forgives you’ into her ear before coldly pressing the rosary beads into her hand and pushing her towards the church door. She hated those beads, thought of them only as her cross to bear, yet every night she still prayed for forgiveness and salvation. Every night she said her Hail Mary and her Our Father and her Glory Be. Every damn night and all she’d seen was God’s wrath and not his love. When Jack stole the beads from her it had felt like he’d stolen her prayers right along with them.

It’s funny that Mr. Mulder should have asked her if she believed in fate this morning when he’d asked her to marry him. She’d been thinking about God’s plan for her for most of the last four years and while she will never have an answer, she can’t help but think, what if God has sent Mr. Mulder to her, particularly in her hour of need? But, if his knock on her door was purely coincidence and not divine intervention, what then? Is this proposal she’s received an answer to her prayers, or is it just her lot in life to always be beholden to some man? 

She wants to believe that Mr. Mulder is a good man, and from the stories Susannah has told her, it seems to be true, but she knows from experience that wolves often appear in sheep’s clothing. If not for him though, she’d be spending another night on a broken-down bedstead, hungry and anxious for what the future holds. 

She knows she is at a crossroads now and she must make a choice. This was not how things were supposed to go for her. She had ambitions and hopes and why is it that one mistake could have taken everything away from her?

She refuses to feel sorry for herself. She presses her lips together and orders the tears she feels creeping up on her to stay back. She has not cried for herself in four years and she will not start now.

  
She closes her eyes and makes the sign of the cross. “I believe in God, the Father Almighty,  Creator of Heaven and earth, ” she whispers, sliding her index fingers against her thumbs. 


	6. What Mr. Skinner Has to Say About It

Mulder is awake before the rooster crows, if he even slept at all. He has the same jitters he felt the day he left for Texas. Nerves and excitement all wrapped into one. To pass the time, and try to relax, he fills and heats the bathing tub, hoping a nice soak will make him feel a little less restless, but he can’t sit still and ends up washing more quickly than it was worth to prepare the bath. He clips his beard and combs his hair back and puts on the cleanest pair of trousers he can find and a dark shirt.

Melvin knows Mulder even better than he knows himself, and already has breakfast laid out on the table by the time he’s finished dressing. The boys aren’t even up yet and the sun is barely peeking through the morning clouds. 

“You takin’ the wagon with you,” Melvin asks. “Or the Tilbury again?”

“I’ll do the wagon this time, in case I need to haul anything back.”

“You might need to replenish the gallon of cologne you poured on this morning.”

“Too much?”

“Not enough. You still smell like horse.”

“You’re smelling yourself.” 

Mulder finishes his breakfast and takes his dishware to the basin. He cleans them himself and then heads out to the barn. The boys are only just piling out of the bunkhouse and on their way over to the house. Jimmy asks if he needs help, but Mulder waves him away to hitch the horses and the wagon himself. He needs something to do with his hands.

The ride into town passes almost like a dream. He swears the horses must have driven themselves because he doesn’t remember getting from the ranch to the mercantile, but here he is. John Jr. is outside sweeping the porch and waves when he sees him. The boy is tall for his age, taking after his mother in that respect, but he’s reedy and dark-haired, like his father. Mulder knows him to be a hard worker, but with a cheeky sense of humor. A definite mix of both his parents.

“You got yourself a real pretty lady, Mr. Mulder,” John Jr. whispers to him as he steps onto the porch. “Real pretty.”

“What do you know about pretty ladies?” Mulder teases, ruffling John Jr.’s hair.

“I have me a sweetheart, don’t tell Ma.”

“You’re too young to have a sweetheart.”

“I’ll be fifteen this winter and Callie will be fifteen in the spring.”

“Callie Blakely? You better not break her heart, you know she’s got five strong brothers.”

John Jr. looks horrified. “I would never break her heart!”

“Don’t do anything foolish either because you think you’re grown. Your parents are good people and you’re going to take over a good business someday.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I have to go talk to a pretty lady now, how do I look?” Mulder takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair.

“You look alright.”

“Do I smell like horse?” He lifts one arm and sniffs the air lightly.

“Only a little.” John Jr. grins and Mulder gives him a soft whack on the back of the head with his hat.

John Byers the elder is stocking shelves when Mulder enters the mercantile. He nods at Mulder and then points to the back towards the curtains that separate the store from his residence. Mulder turns his hat nervously about in his hands and hesitates before he steps through the curtains.

↭

Katherine is up early, but waits until she hears the creaking of floorboards to get out of bed and get dressed. She washes her face at the basin in her room and dons a borrowed skirt and blouse that Susannah loaned to her to meet the bank man. The clothes are a little large for her frame, but the two women spent some time the previous evening doing some hemming and pinning and she feels a bit more respectable now than she has for awhile. If her hair weren’t so wild and thick, she’d pin it instead of tying it into a tight braid.

She’s helping Susannah with breakfast dishes when Mulder arrives. He stands in the kitchen bashfully, like he’s stolen some cookies from a jar and wants to apologize for it. She can suddenly see him as a little boy and wonders if he’s ever gotten scolded for anything in his whole life with such effortless and natural charm. The look of him makes her want to pet his hair and kiss his forehead, but it also sends her insides a fluttering just a bit.

“I hope I’m not too early,” he says. “If I am, I can go on back and pester John for a bit.”

“I was just helping Susannah with these dishes,” Katherine says. “If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Mr. Mulder, have you had breakfast?” Susannah asks. “I can fix you a plate.”

“No, Ma’am, I’ve had my fill. If that coffee pot over there has any left, I might take a cup though.”

“Our Katherine made the coffee this morning and I tell you it’s the best coffee you’ve ever tasted.”

“Is that right?”

“Go on and pour the man a cup and I’ll finish here,” Susannah says, nodding at Mulder and then shooing Katherine away from the wash basin.

Katherine takes one of the coffee cups down from where Susannah had shown her where they were kept and pours a cup for Mulder. It’s still steaming so he sips it carefully and then smiles.

“Susannah, you do not exaggerate,” he says. “This here is the best cup of coffee I have ever tasted.”

“I just need to run upstairs and get my papers,” Katherine says, feeling a little flustered and embarrassed by the praise. She wants to run and hide the flush she feels in her cheeks.

When she returns, Mulder and Susannah are chatting at the table and his coffee is nearly gone. He rises when she comes into the room and starts to turn his hat in his hands. She’s noticed that he does this often when he’s feeling anxious or flustered, the way she might rub her fingers together as though pulling beads through.

“Are we ready?” he asks.

“We are.”

“Alright then.” He finishes his coffee in one go, dons his hat and nods at Susannah as he lightly touches Katherine’s back to guide her to the door. 

Mulder helps Katherine up onto the wagon seat before hopping into his own place. The bank is only a few minutes drive at the other end of the broad, dirt street. Katherine catches sight of the saloon as they pass by and lowers her head, feeling shameful and embarrassed of the place. 

The bank is a square little building standing like a squat fortress at the end of the road. Mulder takes her hand to help her from the wagon and she finds that she would not like to let go. He waits patiently while she stares at the barred windows before her. She’s in conflict. She’s not in much of a hurry to find out how deeply into debt she is, but she would also like to get it over with as soon as possible. 

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Mulder says. “Whatever Mr. Skinner has to tell you, you have my offer and I know that your past experience may have put you off of marriage, but I give you my word that even if you turn me down, I will help you in whatever way I can.”

She can only give him a thin-lipped smile. Her late-night contemplations yielded no decisions for her. She kept returning to her mother’s words, accept your penance and pray He forgives you. The possibility of deep debt is just another consequence of her mistake.

“I am ready,” she says.

When she meets Mr. Skinner, she feels foolish for having mistaken Mulder for him. He’s every bit as stuffy as all the other bankers she’s ever met. His vest is as tightly buttoned as his shirt and he peers down at her from over the rims of his round, gold spectacles and then ushers her into his office.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” Mulder says.

She feels a bit panicky. She had thought Mulder would be with her and she wants to tell him that she does need him. She wants him next to her, holding her hand. Instead, she tamps down those fears and goes into the office with Mr. Skinner and sits in the chair he offers and holds her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking.

“Mrs. Willis,” Mr. Skinner says. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“You have?” She’s puzzled. She doesn’t know if she was supposed to turn herself in sooner. Maybe she should have. “I mean, I was actually expecting you.”

“Oh?”

“Isn’t that what happens when the bank takes your land? They come for you?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because...because I don’t know what I must owe.”

“The usual ten dollars and sixty cents a month at the beginning of October.”

She stares at him blankly. “The usual ten dollars and sixty cents? There’s no...balance that might be due?”

“There is no balance due. Your account is in good standing. I assume you’re here to sign the lease transfer.”

“That would mean the land would be in my name?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And I would pay the mortgage.”

“First of the month.”

“Ten dollars and sixty cents?”

“I’ll need a copy of your marriage certificate, if you have it. And then I will need to send the paperwork to the office in Fort Worth and they will officiate the transfer.”

“Yes, I...I have my marriage certificate.” She remembers the papers that are folded in the little handbag Susannah leant her and she pulls them out, unfolds them, and hands them over to Mr. Skinner. “And a copy of the lease as well.” 

“No need for that, we have our own copy.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

“I took the liberty of preparing the paperwork already and if you’ll just sign here and here where these x’s are.” He pushes a piece of paper across his desk to her and hands her a fountain pen.

Her hand is shaking when she takes the pen and it takes her more time than it should to put her name in the two places indicated. She takes a few passing glances at what she’s signing, but all she can see is the Transfer of Land Lease Ownership at the top.

“Is that all?” she asks.

“That is all. You come back in a few weeks time and I’ll have a copy of the new lease for you.”

“Alright. And I pay you ten dollars and sixty cents at the first of the month?” 

“Yes, that’s how it works.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She blinks in astonishment that this has all happened so quickly. Mulder was right, there was nothing to worry about. Was there a way Jack could have been keeping up with the payments without her knowing? He didn’t have a job she was aware of unless he was doing something illegal that he’d hidden from her, but where would he find the time between the drinking and the gambling to find work?

It dawns on her suddenly that there is no possible way that Jack had secretly been making mortgage payments this whole time. The first of the month was a week ago and a handful of days. Jack had been suffering with loose bowels at that time and spent four days crumbled in the broken bedstead yelling at her that she’d cursed him and been the source of all his pain for the past four years. She’s also almost certain the month before that was when he’d brought home a jug of moonshine and passed out face up on the side of the house on the hottest day of the year and had a sunburn that looked like third degree burns. She’d had to rip up part of the bed sheets to keep cool compresses on his head.

“Mulder,” she murmurs to herself.

“Mrs. Willis?”

Katherine hands the fountain pen she’s still holding back over to Mr. Skinner. “What would happen to this lease if I were to remarry?” she asks.

“Your husband would assume the lease as a co-owner, naturally.”

“But, my name is on it now and will remain, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Thank you, Mr. Skinner.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Willis.”

She folds her copy of the lease back into a small square and puts it into the handbag at her wrist. Her knees are shaking when she stands and she walks out to where Mulder is pacing near the windows.

“Well?” he asks.

“It appears as though my concerns were unfounded.”

“Oh?”

“There’s nothing owed. Jack apparently kept the account in good standing.”

“Did he? I guess the poker games must have paid off.”

“Mr. Skinner had me sign some papers to transfer the lease to my name.”

“That’s wonderful. It means I can offer you a decent sum to sell me that parcel.”

“No, I don’t think I want to do that.”

He purses his lips a bit and shakes his head slowly. “You don’t?”

“I think I’d like to keep it. You said you’d help me in whatever way I needed, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. What would you like?”

“I think I should like to marry you, if the offer is still available.”


	7. The Sheriff and His Wife

Mulder’s heart stops for a beat when Katherine says she would like to keep the land, but then restarts double-time when she says she’d like to marry him. It’s what he hoped to hear and yet he’s still surprised and flustered when she tells him.

“Of course,” he answers her. “Of course it’s still available. I would never go back on my word.”

“I believe you. I have a request though.”

“Come,” he says, ushering her out of the bank and to the wagon where they might have a bit more privacy. “What kind of request do you have?”

“You said that you would offer me a job, if not that you couldn’t bring me on as an unwed woman.”

“I did.”

“I’ll marry you to satisfy that requirement, but I would like you to hire me on as you said, so that I can earn the mortgage payment on the land and pay for it myself.”

“How much is the mortgage payment?”

“Ten dollars and sixty cents, on the first of every month.”

“So what’s your going rate as my housekeeper?”

“All I need is the ten dollars and sixty cents.”

“No deal.” He shakes his head and crosses his arms and tries not to laugh.

“What?”

“You’re selling yourself short. I would pay a housekeeper twice that much. Twenty dollars a month.”

She looks a bit flummoxed by his offer at first and then she crosses her arms as well and lifts her chin. “Twice as much is twenty-one dollars and twenty cents. And I can pay you back that much faster for the items I purchased at the mercantile yesterday.”

“Twenty-five dollars a month and the items are a gift. That’s my final offer.”

For a second, she looks as though she’s about to stomp her foot in indignation and he purses his lips to disguise the smile pulling at his cheeks. She takes a deep breath as though preparing for an argument, but then slumps slightly and gives a brief nod.

“Agreed,” she says.

“Shake on it?” He holds his hand out to her and she does the same. He clasps hers firmly as though she were a man he was doing business with. She squeezes back just as firmly and then they both let go. “Now, with that settled, I’m not really a church man so I don’t know when the circuit preacher is going to be in town next to hold a wedding.”

“I don’t need a wedding. A justice of the peace would be just fine.”

“I believe Sheriff Doggett qualifies.”

“Can we go now?”

He chuckles and raises his brows. “In a hurry, are you? Afraid I’ll change my mind? Or afraid you’ll change yours?”

  
“I just can’t think of a reason to delay the inevitable, can you?”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

“So let’s go see Sherriff Doggett and then we can pick up my things from the Byers and you can take me home.”

Oh, does he ever like the sound of ‘take me home’ coming from her mouth.

↭

She honestly doesn’t know how it’s possible for someone to be so infuriating and charming at the same time. She wants to be angry with him for his ludicrously generous salary offer, but he makes it impossible with the twinkle in his eye and the crooked grin on his face. He’s like the opposite of Jack in every way. She’d have a bloody lip and a few bruises by now if she’d disagreed with him the way she just disagreed with Mulder.

She needs this marriage to take place sooner rather than later so she can close this chapter of her life and move on. She simply can’t be as miserable in this arrangement with Mr. Mulder as she was with Jack. Already, she has more possessions than she’s had in quite some time and she’ll have a room of her own and she won’t have to wonder if she’ll be eating one day to the next. And she’ll have a bit of money to put away and save in case she needs it.

The Sheriff’s office is just a few doors from the bank. They leave the wagon where it is and walk down. Mulder holds the door open for her and she enters first, recognizing the man who came to notify her right away sitting at one of two desks in the small room. It’s nothing but the desks, a potbelly stove, an empty jail cell, the Sheriff, and a dark-haired woman standing beside him with a basket over her arm.

“Mrs. Willis,” Sheriff Doggett says, standing up behind his desk. “Is everything alright? There something I can help you with?”

“Sheriff,” Mulder says, extending a hand to him.

“My wife,” the Sheriff answers, tipping his head towards the woman. “Monica.”

“Ma’am.” Mulder nods.

Monica smiles broadly at Mulder and then sobers and takes Katherine’s hands in her own. “Mrs. Willis,” she says. “I heard about your husband. I am very sorry for your loss.”

“Please, call me Katherine.”

“Honey, you can run on home now while I tend to these folks. Thank you for bringing the muffins over.”

“Wait,” Mulder says. “I believe we might need a witness here.”

“A witness to what?” Sheriff Doggett asks.

“I’m going to take responsibility for Katherine Willis.”

“Why, what’s she done?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of, I’m just going to marry her.”

“Oh, a wedding!” Monica exclaims.

“No wedding,” Katherine clarifies. “Just whatever will make it official. Mulder said you’re a justice of the peace.”

“I am, but I never done a wedding.”

“Oh, John,” Monica admonishes. “You’ve been to weddings before.”

“What weddings?”

“Ours!”

“Well, yeah.”

“We’re not looking for words or a ceremony,” Mulder says. “We’ve just come to sign the license or certificate or whatever needs signing.”

“I got the record book here.” John sits down and opens his desk drawer. He pulls out a leatherbound book with printed pages and opens it to a blank spot where a wooden marker is inserted. “Isn’t this a little quick? Your first husband is still on ice and you’re already taking on another? If I didn’t have witnesses that saw Jack Willis tumble head-first into that ditch out yonder, I might be suspicious.”

“Oh, John,” Monica says, tsking at him. “You’d find suspicion in a Sunday school. Jack Willis was a no-good drunk and everyone knows it.” She gasps at her own brashness and then winces and turns to Katherine. “I apologize, Katherine, I know you were married to him, sometimes I forget how to hold my tongue.”

“He was a no-good drunk,” Katherine agrees. “I will admit that I’m not sorry he’s gone, but I didn’t have a hand in it, if that’s what you’re implying, Sheriff.”

“He’s not implying anything, he’s just being a grump. Anyone can see that you two just go together. When things are right, there’s no sense in wasting time. Have you ever heard of the aura?”

“The what?” Mulder asks.

“Oh, now,” the Sheriff says. “None of that hogwash about auras today.”

“I’m just saying it’s obvious. Their auras are highly compatible.”

“Alright, now.”

“I’d kind of like to hear about these auras,” Mulder interjects.

“Trust me, you’re better off staying in the dark,” the Sheriff answers.

“Let me have that book, John, I’ll write it.” Monica puts her basket on the desk and takes her gloves off. “This should look nice and your handwriting is…”

“What about my handwriting?”

“Illegible.”

The Sheriff grumbles a bit under his breath, but gives the book over to his wife. “Now, just hold on, I need to get a sheet of carbon paper.”

“I’ll read this out loud and you tell me what to fill in,” Monica says. She sits down in the Sheriff’s chair when he gets up to retrieve a sheet of carbon paper and his mouth screws up when he comes back to find his seat filled.

Mr. Mulder chuckles and then holds his fist up to his mouth as though he’s stifling a cough. He looks to Katherine and they share a moment of amusement before she turns her eyes away. How quickly they’ve gone from strangers to knowing what the other is thinking. It seems impossible. Maybe that’s what an aura is.

“Marriage record of the state of Texas, county of Anderson,” Monica reads. “To any ordained minister of the gospel, judge of the district court, judge of county court, or justice of the peace, that’s you John. You are hereby authorized to solemnize or join in the holy union of matrimony, Mr.?”

“William Fox Mulder,” Mulder says.

Monica enters his name onto the blank line in her elegant handwriting. “And Miss?”

“Mary Katherine Willis,” Katherine answers. “Katherine spelled with a ‘K.’”

“Katherine spelled with a ‘K,’” Monica repeats softly as she fills out the blank space. “In accordance with the laws of the state you are to execute the same within sixty days of issuance on this the...what’s today, John?”

“It’s the 10th of September,” Mulder answers. 

“Now, John, this says you’re to sign here.” Monica pushes the book across the table to him and holds the pen out for him.

“I know what it says.”

“Well, you said you’d never done a wedding before.”

“And I still haven’t, you just did all the reading.”

“Well then, why don’t you say something.”

“Like what?”

“Words of wisdom.”

“I don’t have any words of wisdom.”

“Oh, John.” Monica sighs and takes the book and the pen back from the Sheriff. “Okay, now Mr. Mulder you’re going to sign right here on the next line and then Katherine, right beside you here.” 

Mulder takes the pen and quickly scribbles his signature and then Katherine follows and returns the pen to Monica.

“Alright, now I will sign below here. I, Monica Joanne Doggett, have witnessed the above signatories of this record and attest that there have been no objections to this marriage. There are no objections to his marriage, are there?”

“I don’t object,” Mulder answers and looks down at Katherine. “Do you?”

“No, I do not,” Katherine answers.

“And I don’t either,” Monica says. “John, now you sign down here again.”

“What if I object?”

“You don’t. Stop being difficult, go on and sign.”

“You sure you want to do this?” The Sheriff asks, looking at Mulder.

“I do,” Mulder answers with a nod.

“Then I guess you’re official.”

“Is that it?” Monica asks.

“Oh, now you want to ask me what to do?” Sheriff Doggett slides the book across the desk away from Monica and pulls the page out of the book behind the carbon paper. He hands the certificate to Mulder, who in turns gives it to Katherine.

“Congratulations!” Monica cries. She jumps up and embraces Katherine. “Would you like a muffin?”

“Hey!” the Sheriff protests.

Not for nothing, Katherine thinks, this wedding was a lot easier to get through than her first.


	8. Luncheon on the Grass

Mulder helps his wife into the wagon. Wife! Yesterday he was a bachelor, today he’s somebody’s husband and she is his wife. Incredible.

“On to the Byers,” he says, coaxing the horses into a trot. “And then, home.”

“Yes.” She’s reading the marriage certificate when he glances at her. 

Susannah Byers is thrilled when she hears about the marriage. She wants to give them a party, but both Mulder and Katherine politely decline. Mulder can tell that Katherine is not one to bring attention to herself and he can’t say he enjoys it either. 

“What about a nice Sunday dinner after services when the circuit preacher comes around?”

Katherine looks to Mulder and he nods. “That sounds quite nice,” he says. “Even if I can’t be to church, I’ll see to it that Katherine will be there.”

“We’ll get you into a church one day, Mulder, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know, Susannah, I think being a heathen suits me just fine.”

Susannah laughs and then slips her arm through Katherine’s. “Let’s go get your things together and gossip about these menfolk.” 

“So, you went and did it,” John Byers says, as soon as Susannah and Katherine are gone.

“Yes, I’ve officially joined the married men’s club.” Mulder spots the row of tinned fruits on the shelves behind John’s shoulder and has a moment of inspiration. “John, I’ll take one of those tinned peaches and a few of your pickled eggs.” 

John hops to attention like the perfect store manager that he is as Mulder rattles off some additional items. A tin of crackers, a hunk of cheese, some bread, two bottles of sarsaparilla, a bag of licorice, a dozen apples, and a few scoops of raisins. While John gathers everything together, Mulder pulls down a squat basket from one of the top shelves to put everything in. He adds a new set of cutlery as well and covers everything with some linen napkins.

“Tell the ladies I’m out by the wagon,” he tells John after he pays him, and then takes the basket out to try to tuck it away unnoticed.

When Katherine comes out with the valise, Susannah is beside her with some wrapped packages. Mulder takes everything and loads it into the back of the wagon. The sun is getting to be high and mighty. He leaves the ladies chatting and saying their goodbyes and runs back into the store. It only takes a couple seconds for him to grab the first straw hat he sees and plunks it down on the counter.

“I assume this is for the new bride?” John asks.

“That’s right.”

“Then you’ll be wanting a ladies’ hat, not a boater.” John shakes his head and points to the women’s hats behind him, ones that tie on with ribbons and have sprigs of flowers at one side.

“This one,” Mulder says, grabbing a wider-brimmed hat, much less stiff than the one he’d initially selected, with a pink ribbon and baby’s breath.

“Good luck with everything.”

“Thank you.”

Mulder hands the hat to Katherine when he comes out of the store and she gives him a puzzled look.

“Getting on to be high noon,” Mulder says, pointing up at the clear sky. “The hat will keep the sun out of your eyes and protect you from getting burned.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She places it on her head lightly and then ties a neat bow under her chin with the ribbons.

“Susannah, I thank you for allowing Katherine to stay with you last night.”

“Anytime, anytime! I was just telling her to come back as often as she likes and maybe we can plan a tea with some of the other ladies that come in for church. There’s only the Sheriff’s wife and Arlene Skinner in town, but she’s not terribly social.”

“Didn’t even know Mr. Skinner was married,” Mulder answers. “We only just met Monica Doggett today.”

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. You come back and see me real soon, alright?”

“Thank you,” Katherine tells Susannah and gives her a quick embrace.

As though they’ve done this a thousand times over and without even thinking about it, Katherine blindly gives her hand to Mulder and he rubs his thumb over her knuckles as he waits for her to gather her skirts up so she doesn’t trip on the step up to the wagon.

↭

Katherine quickly learns that Mulder is a man of many surprises. She can see that his spontaneity is going to keep her on her toes. When they’re about half-way to home, he stops the wagon where there’s a nice shady canopy of trees for the horses and produces a basket of food he had hidden in the wagon.

“Thought it might be nice to stop for a picnic,” he says.

“I don’t think I’ve been on a picnic since I was a little girl.”

“Wait just one minute, I’ve got a blanket back here I’ll lay out. You’ll have to excuse the bits of hay, but at least your dress won’t get dirtied.”

She helps him lay out the blanket beneath an oak tree that looks like it was planted at the beginning of time it’s so large. He kneels to unpack the basket and she sits down and tucks her legs to the side. There doesn’t seem to be anything in the basket that he hasn’t thought of. When he has it emptied he hangs his hat on the handle and pushes his hair back with one hand.

“I realize I don’t actually know if you like peaches,” he says. “Maybe I should’ve gotten apricots.”

“I like peaches.”

“Oh, good.” He opens the tin with a pocket knife and gives her the first pick.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you’d like from this spread, don’t be shy.” He cuts off a bit of cheese and bread and then lays back onto one elbow and smiles at her.

The way he looks at her makes her feel shy and she has to look away for a moment, but the pull of his gaze is too strong and it stirs something in her that she’s never felt before. It’s akin to fear, but if she’s in danger, she doesn’t feel like running away from it, she feels like running towards it. 

“You may just have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” he says. “I think the sky might be jealous.”

Compliments make her terribly uncomfortable and she’s glad for the hat that can shield him from the color in her cheeks. “I’d like to confess something,” she says, plucking absently at a loose thread on her skirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t cook?” He chuckles at his own joke.

“I can cook well enough.”

“Whew.”

“When I told you my maiden name was O’Brien, I wasn’t telling the truth. It’s my mother’s maiden name. Mine is Scully.”

“Scully. I like that. It suits you somehow. But, why did you say it was O’Brien?”

“I don’t know. I guess I felt scared in a way. Of you knowing me too quickly. You lied to me too, though.”

“No, my name has always been Mulder.”

“Jack never paid a single cent on that land. You did.”

“Did Skinner tell you that?”

“No, he told me that Jack paid the mortgage on time, the first of every month. That was simply impossible. Even if he had won enough in a poker game. Why did you want me to believe that he had?”

Mulder sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I got to thinking that maybe my offer had been a little unfair when you had no real alternatives. I guess, selfishly, there was a part of me that didn’t want to think you’d marry me for that reason alone. But, also, I thought I might try to give you one good thing to remember about your late husband.”

“You don’t know what my memories are.”

“No, but I do know they aren’t fond.”

She frowns and her voice comes out a little more forceful and louder than she’d like, but he’s touched a nerve. “I won’t ever think fondly of Jack Willis and there isn’t a thing you can do about that,” she barks.

Mulder whistles low and then smiles. “And though she be but little, she is fierce. Remind me, fair Kate, never to get on your bad side.”

She’s embarrassed by her outburst, but more surprised that Mulder doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it, or concerned. He’s rather amused. He just keeps smiling at her to the point where she has to drop her chin or she may end up smiling back.

“If I may be so bold,” Mulder says. “Why did you marry Jack? Was there ever a time you liked him even a little?”

“I married him because my father arranged it. Maybe there was a time when I liked him. If there was though, I’ve forgotten it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d rather not have to think about him right now.” 

“Of course.”

“I apologize for losing my temper earlier.”

“Why should you be sorry if that’s the way you feel? I promise I will make it my life’s mission not to arouse your temper, but you should know I am famously myopic when it comes to thinking before I speak or act.”

“As long as you’re not violent,” she whispers, her eyes downcast.

He reaches out and touches her cheek for a moment. “No, I am not violent. You have my word on that.”

She nods a little. She knows she’s been temperamental and melancholy and has ruined the picnic that Mulder has set up. She tries to think of a way to salvage the day and this nice thing that he’s done for her.

“You know what I was thinking?” he asks suddenly. “We’re going to have to make sure you have more lessons with the carriage.”

“Why?”

“Getting into town, going to church, having ladies’ teas and those other mysterious things women do when they get together. You’ll need a way to get to and from.”

“Oh. I don’t need to go unless you’d like to take me. You don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Well, Melvin’s going to need something to do since you’ll be displacing him as the resident cook. He’ll be showing you the ropes anyway, and he’s a much better teacher than I am.”

“You would permit me to go into town on my own?”

“Permit you?” He raises his brows a bit. “Do you know what my aunt once told me about marriage?”

“No.”

“She said that it’d be best to remember that women have their own minds and their own interests and if I thought that marriage would change that, I should go on and be a bachelor for the rest of my days.”

She doesn’t quite know what to do with this piece of information. Her mother had always told her that marriage is doing as your husband bids and raising his children. No more. As a woman, she has been trained to believe that it is her place to move from her father’s rule to her husband’s. And now, here is a man, her new husband, a complete stranger whom she tethered herself to more willingly than her last, offering her a kind of freedom she’s never had but always longed for. Four years ago she had lost the hard-won opportunity to be more than a daughter or a wfie, never thinking it would come around again. 

“Do you mean that?” she asks. “That I might have my own interests to pursue?”

“Only if you promise to tell me what those interests are sometime.”

“I like to learn things about science and new discoveries. Have you ever heard of the electric bulb?”

“I’ve seen one.”

“You’ve seen one?” She nearly gasps. She’s read all about them, seen illustrations, but never met anyone who has seen one in person.

“There’s a park in New York City illuminated at night by electric lamps. It’s not as pretty as candlelight, but it is rather enchanting.”

“Some day I would like to see one.”

“I am certain that you will.” 

She’s quiet for a few moments, thinking about the possibility. It occurs to her that she’s forgotten all about her earlier discomfort and melancholy and that perhaps the picnic has been a success after all.

“I would like you to know that I didn’t marry you because it was the only option,” she tells him. 

“Oh? I’m glad to hear that.”

“I think it’s possible that I might like you. And that I trust you.”

He laughs at that. “You can take your time on making up your mind about it, but I already know that I like you, fair Kate.”

They smile at each other and she tips her head down almost bashfully. She’s not quite willing to admit to him yet, but she likes it when he calls her Kate. She likes almost everything about him, really, even when he’s being stubborn.

“Do you think we could go on another picnic one day?” she asks.

“It was just on my mind to ask if you had any objections to stepping out with me again sometime. I’m sorry if there were some awkward moments earlier, it’s been a long time since I’ve done any courting.”

“But, we are already married.”

“Still, I think a bit of courting is in order, don’t you? How else am I to learn all that I should about my wife?”

“When you have put it in such a way as that, I can’t help but agree.”


	9. Melvin's Story

He likes her more and more with every minute that passes. In some ways she reminds him of his sister. Samantha was such a determined and spirited little girl and he can see the same qualities in Katherine, though it’s clear she tries to suppress them. He suspects that’s a product of both her upbringing and her previous marriage.

He’s excited to get her settled on the ranch and to have her there. As a man raised by a strong woman of considerable influence, he’s missed both the female perspective and the companionship. There is a different energy that women bring with them that has been inspiring poets and heroes throughout history. Perhaps that energy is what Monica Doggett was referring to when she was talking about auras.

The ranch is alive with activity when he arrives. Jesse and Jimmy are training in the corral. Richard is mending fence posts and Trevor is moving the sheep from grazing back to the pen, with Queenie keeping the small herd in line. Melvin is nowhere in sight, which could mean he’s getting supper together or tinkering in the barn.

Mulder stops the wagon just outside the barn. He helps Katherine down and she waits to help with the unloading of her things. He gives her the valise and insists on doing the rest even though it will take a few trips.

“Go on ahead,” he tells her. “I’m going to see to the horses and I’ll be along in a minute.”

Trevor comes along as Mulder is unhitching the wagon and he takes the horses away to be watered and fed. Before he unloads the packages he stops by the corral and checks in with Jesse and Jimmy on the training.

With his arms loaded with packages, he steps into Katherine’s room, but stays just inside the doorway to wait to be invited in. She has removed her hat and has the valise opened and is standing before the open wardrobe.

“Looks like Melvin has been busy,” Mulder says, noting the vase of fresh wildflowers on the side table and the quilt folded at the foot of the bed. The room smells of lemons and a feather duster has been abandoned on the side of the wash stand. 

“He shouldn’t have gone to any trouble on my account,” she says.

“I’ll be sure to scold him later and send him to bed without supper. Where would you like these?”

“I’ll take them.”

He hands off the packages to her and she places them almost gently on the bed and then touches one almost reverently. He wonders when the last time she had something new and for herself was. He hopes she got everything she needed and at least a few things that she just wanted.

“I need to take care of a few things with the horses so I’ll let you settle in.”

“I’d like to get started on my responsibilities as soon as possible.”

“You wouldn’t like a day or two to yourself before you start taking things on?”

“No, thank you, I like to keep occupied.”

“I’ll track Melvin down and send him to you.”

“I’ll put my things away then and wait here.”

Mulder takes a few steps to the bed and then twirls a bit of the twine knotting one of her packages around one finger. “This is your home now,” he says. “You are the lady of the house.”

“Are you trying to gently remind me that I should not act as a guest here?”

“Or reminding myself not to treat you like one.”

“Then I will find Mr. Frohike as soon as I have unpacked my things and have him show me what needs to be done.”

“As my lady wishes.” Mulder smiles and then bows slightly. “I will see you at supper.”

↭

She doesn’t have to find Mr. Frohike, he finds her, whistling as he enters the room and then stops when he sees her. He’s carrying two oil lamps, one in each hand. She has just finished putting her packages away in the wardrobe and is folding the paper and balling the twine to repurpose at some point.

“Mr. Frohike,” she says. “Please, come in.”

“Pardon me for not knockin’, Madam,” he says. “I didn’t know you was here. And we’re not big on formalities, you can just call me Melvin.”

“Only if you call me Katherine. Could I help you with those?”

“These are for you, actually. I was just makin’ sure they were filled and the wicks were cut. Got one for the table and one for the desk. I can rustle up a few more, I think, if’n you want.” He sets the lamps down where he said they belonged and then grabs the feather duster that was left behind and shoves it handle-first into the back pocket of his pants.

“No, I can make do just fine with these. I’m glad you’re here, I was just going to come look for you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I’m ready for you to show me what my duties are.”

“Duties, huh? What kind of duties you after?”

“Cooking, cleaning, mending. Or anything else you think I should take care of.”

“Oh, so Mulder brought you here to overthrow me, did he?”

“You can think of it as lightening your load.”

“Alright then, I’ll give you the rundown on who does what ‘round here.”

Katherine learns that Trevor is the youngest and newest hand on the ranch. He’s sixteen, orphaned from a tender age, and came through town at the beginning of summer, looking for work. Melvin happened to be at the sawmill that day for some lumber when he came asking. He took one look at the boy and knew he was still too puny for hard labor, so he brought him to the ranch and Mulder put him to work seeing to the livestock.

The livestock, she soon learns, was also unintentional. They started with keeping chickens for the eggs, but then Mulder started taking in injured or abandoned animals. It was fairly common for folks to pick up stakes after some time and turn their stock out when they left. And there were also folks who Mulder may have nursed a sick horse back to health for and they may have shown him their gratitude for his time with a pig or a goat.

“That old gal right there,” Melvin says, pointing out a grey goat mixed in amongst the sheep. “She’s called Lucy, which is short for Lucifer. Folks dropped her off with us and said she was the devil himself and they were either going to put her down or see if Mulder could tame her, since he’s so good at breakin’ horses.”

“She looks alright to me.”

“Oh, she is now. Sweet as pie. Mulder knew there was somethin’ bothering her from the start. Said she was buttin’ and stompin’ because she was mighty afraid and just pretendin’ not to be. Turns out, them chickens at her old place were harassin’ her and causin’ the terrible disposition.”

“How did Mulder know that?”

“He says he asked her and she told him.” Melvin laughs. “Likely he just observed that she got ornery when the ladies of the coop got to cluckin’ and put two and two together. He moved the goat pen to the far end over here, away from all them chickens and now she’s got no worries as long as they keep to their end of the ranch. The folks said we could keep her and so we’ve had her with us since.”

“He really cares for these animals, doesn’t he?”

“That he does.”

She learns that Jesse and Jimmy are brothers, the youngest of a family of eight. Their parents have a sheep farm about fifty miles out on the way to Fort Worth. Their two oldest brothers and their wives run the place now and Jesse and Jimmy figured it was time to set off and do for themselves. A lot of mouths to feed out there and there wasn’t much of a place for them any longer. Jimmy is the same age as she is, twenty-two, and Jesse is only a year older. They’ve been working for Mulder for more than two years and spend most of their time helping with the exercising and training of all the horses. At Mulder’s insistence, they ride out and spend at least one week’s end with their family every few months.

Mulder met Richard in Fort Worth when he was there doing some trading. He was skin and bones and crazy whiskers when he boldly went up to Mulder’s wagon, opened the jockey box, and started tinkering with the wheels. When Mulder asked him just what in the hell he thought he was doing, Richard shrugged and said that the pivot was loose and the pin needed fixing. 

Richard could fix just about anything, but he’d been kicked out of the army for arguing with the sergeants one too many times. They don’t know nothing about nothing, is what he will say about that.

“He’s a bit of a lone wolf,” Melvin says. “Set in his ways and nobody can tell him nothin’ when he’s tryin’ to solve a problem. Got hisself a temper, but only takes it out on hisself too. Got a wanderin’ spirit, and I think he would pick up and go sometimes if’n the streets hadn’t been so mean to him, poor beanpole.”

“What about you?” Katherine asks.

“I’ve been here from the beginning.”

“But, what’s your story?”

“Bah. I ain’t got a story.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I know that some things have to be kept inside.”

“It’s time we started on supper, let’s get on in the kitchen.”

Katherine follows Melvin into the house, noticing as he walks up the stairs that he has a hint of a limp. He shows her where pots and pans are, where the dishes are, where the spices are kept, how to open the cellar door for the canned vegetables and salted meats. She learns what the boys like for breakfast, what a typical noon dinner is like, and when supper is served. 

Melvin is slicing beef steaks and she is slicing potatoes when he starts to talk. “I had a wife once,” he says. “Eliza. Her family settled near ours in what’s now called Lee’s Summit in Missouri. She showed up at the schoolhouse one day with her sister Becky and I was smitten.”

“How old were you then?”

“Nine. She was eight, but she was one of them kids that takes to book learnin’ like a duck to water, so teacher put her next to me to share my reader and work on sums together. I knew I was going to marry her the day I met her.”

“And you did.”

“Yes, we did. I was seventeen, she was sixteen. I got a little plot of land to start a farm and she wanted to be a teacher. We did good that year. The crops were profitable and she was teachin’ at a nearby settlement called Blue Springs.”

“Excuse me a minute, I’m going to put these potatoes on to boil.”

“Almost done with these steaks here and I’ll help with the carrots.”

They move about the kitchen in silence for a few minutes as they tend to supper. She checks the fire on the stove while he greases a pan and then she starts to chopping up carrots and he joins her.

“We weren’t too far off from Independence,” he says, continuing his story from where he left off. “People were comin’ through all the time gettin’ themselves ready to head out to the Oregon territory.”

“I’ve heard tales about the journey. They say it was long and harsh.”

“Yes, it was.” Melvin stops chopping for a moment and looks off into the distance.

“You went to the Oregon territory?”

“Eliza had an adventurous spirit. As a girl, her family come to Missouri from Wisconsin, and I think she remembered the trek with a child’s excitement. All them folks comin’ through, eager for new land, new starts and the like, it caught her like a fever.”

“She wanted to go, but you didn’t?”

“I wanted what she wanted. We waited until the followin’ spring, sold the farm, and then headed out to join a caravan up in Independence. Our parents begged us not to go, said it was too dangerous and we ought to stay right where we were with our nice farm and all our family and our friends. But, Eliza could not be swayed and so neither could I.”

“You were eighteen then?”

“Just turned nineteen. We left the day before Eliza’s eighteenth birthday, the twenty-sixth of April, 1850.”

“I bet that feels like a lifetime ago for you now.”

“Several lifetimes. You know, I just had a thought, if we peel up them apples Mulder brung in, we could spice them for dessert. The boys will like that.”

“I’ll get them.”

Melvin gathers the carrots into a bowl to boil when the potatoes are finished and he checks the fire in the stove this time while Katherine gathers the apples. It takes her some time to find the peeling knives, and she makes a few mental notes on how she’d like to organize the kitchen when she takes it over to maximize efficiency. She’ll have to ask Melvin about it later so as not to cause any offense.

“What happened next?” Katherine asks, as they sit down to peel the apples.

“The first part of the journey weren’t so bad,” he answers. Nothin’ real excitin’ to look at, but the journey itself was excitin’ enough, I think. We got to Fort Kearney where people did some swappin’ and then we followed a river up to Fort Laramie. I got a little worried because even in the summer it was so cold up there, but Eliza said it was nothin’ what compared to a Wisconsin winter. And the rain was just...so many folks got themselves stuck in mud and we had to leave them behind and hope they’d catch up down the way. We come close a few times, but I think I had the strongest oxen on the earth and they managed to pull us out. I wish they hadn’t, though.”

“You wanted to be stuck?”

Melvin is quiet for a few moments. “We carved our initials on this great big hump of a rock they call the Register of the Desert. Soon after we made a slow climb up into the mountains and on to Fort Hall. By that time there was only half of the caravan left. Some folks just gived up a long way back and turned for home, some folks just died where they was because it was too hot or they were too sickly or it was just too dadgum tough.”

“Did you ever think about turning back?”

“All the time. I think I knew it was a mistake before we even set out, but Eliza was as certain as I was skeptical.”

“What happened, Melvin?”

“They’re called the Blue Mountains. Steep, hard to navigate, rough terrain. I told Eliza to get on in the back of the wagon because I was afraid she’d fall off the seat, it was so uneven. The oxen were slippin’ and I could tell they were tired, but we couldn’t stop. I’ve never been so grateful for anything in all my life when we reached the top and I figured the way down would be easier. It was just too narrow. Too dadgum narrow.”

Katherine stops her peeling and puts a hand over Melvin’s. He lays down his peeling knife and lifts one arm to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. She finds that her own eyes are wet and she doesn’t need him to say anything else to know the rest.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You don’t need to tell me anymore.”

“It’s alright. It’s been thirty-six years, but it stays fresh in my mind. The back wheel went off the path and I know them oxens tried real hard to pull it out, but the fact is, it was just too heavy for them and it happened too fast. We overturned and providence saw to it that I landed with no more than a busted ankle, but Eliza was inside the wagon. I always wonder if things could’ve turned out different if’n I hadn’t told her to go on and get in back.”

“I ask myself a variation of that question all the time. I try not to think like that, but I know it’s harder said than done.”

“It pains me the most that I was spared, and not her. I made it to Oregon with a family that carted me and my busted ankle in the back of their wagon, but she was the one that wanted to go. I spent a lot of years after that feelin’ sorry for myself, roamin’ around this country and refusin’ to settle.”

“You didn’t go back to Missouri?”

“Not ever. I couldn’t face Eliza’s parents after what happened. Or her sister.”

“And you didn’t remarry?”

“There’s no one compares to Eliza.”

“How did you end up here?”

“Same way you did, I guess. Or Richard, or them goats or the whole lot of us. We was in the right place at the right time and we run into a collector of broken things.” Melvin wipes his eyes once more and then lightly slaps the table. “So, that’s my story. Maybe one day you’ll tell me yours.”

“Perhaps I will,” she says. Unlikely, she thinks.


	10. Good Night

The supper bell is sounded before Mulder and Jesse and Jimmy have fully put the horses up for the evening. Feeling like he’s been shirking his share of the responsibilities the last few days, Mulder sends the two brothers in ahead of him to finish. He washes up at the pump at the back of the house, but goes round to the front entrance to get a clean shirt before he comes to the table.

Everyone is having their supper when Mulder comes into the kitchen. Katherine jumps up to serve him, but he waves her down and fixes his own plate. The biscuits are a little burnt at the bottom, which she apologizes profusely for. The potatoes are lumpy, but delicious. 

“These may be the best mashed potatoes I’ve ever had,” he says. “You’ve put something in them.”

“Ah, ah,” Melvin says when Katherine opens her mouth to answer. “A chef must never reveal the secrets of the kitchen.”

“I think you’re just jealous that I’ve never asked you about any of your recipes.”

“I never heard you complain.”

“You ever hear me compliment either?”

“I just figured you not to be very mannerly.”

“It’s garlic,” Katherine says. “Just a bit of powdered garlic and butter and some cream.”

“Well, this is my new favorite potato.”

“Have you ever made up a shepherd’s pie, Ma’am?” Jimmy asks.

“A few times,” she answers. “Not many.”

Jesse elbows Jimmy and Jimmy elbows him back. “Our Gran used to make it for us when we were small and she was always saying the potato was the best part. I wonder if you can’t make as good of a pie as she did.”

“I can certainly try.”

“You’ve already got admirers of your talents putting in requests,” Mulder says. “How about that?”

“I think you all are just being kind since I burned the biscuits.”

“Not the whole biscuit,” Mulder says with a wink and a smile. “Just the bottom. And the steaks are delicious.”

Katherine chuckles. “Melvin did the steaks.”

Melvin’s fork clatters to the plate and he wipes his mouth on his napkin before he gets up and does a short jig in front of the table. “Did my ears deceive me or was that a compliment I just heard?”

“Alright, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

“That sounded like a compliment to me,” Jimmy says. “What do you think, Jesse?”

“I think people need to let me eat the best steak and potato the lord ever created in peace.”

“Jesse,” Katherine says, looking at Mulder. “I notice you didn’t mention the biscuits in there.”

He grunts. “They’re burnt. Nobody likes burnt up biscuits.” 

Katherine gestures to Jesse and nods at Mulder. “You see.”

“Well, I do.” Mulder stares back at Katherine and brings another biscuit to his plate from the tray. “I happen to like burnt up biscuits very much.”

↭

Despite the burnt biscuits, Katherine thinks supper is a success. The dessert got an especially enthusiastic response and she makes a note that the boys seem to really like apples. Just like the noon dinner she took part in yesterday, as they all finish eating, they bring their dishes to the wash basin and then they disappear after thanking her for a nice supper. Mulder excuses himself as well to go light the lamps as it’s getting to be dusk.

Melvin helps her wash and dry the dishes despite her insistence that he should sit down and not worry about her. He waves her away and tells her that old habits die hard. She ends up doing the washing and he does the drying.

“Melvin, can I ask you something? And you can tell me no, but I thought that I might like to do some rearranging in the kitchen. But, only if I have your blessing.”

“This is your kitchen now, m’lady. You can put things to how you want them.”

“Still, I know this has been your domain and I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with how it is now, I just have a certain mind about how things work.”

Melvin throws the dish towel over one shoulder and then puts both hands over hers. “My lovely, you don’t need to explain anythin’ to me. This is your kitchen now and that’s as it should be. The only thing I’ll tell you is that when Mulder expands on this place, you tell him to build you a kitchen that’s twice as big and twice as nice.”

“I rather like this kitchen though.”

“Stove’s faulty, obviously. Burn’s the biscuits.”

Katherine laughs and Melvin takes the dish towel and puts it over her shoulder, passing the mantle to her. Mulder comes in with a lighted lamp.

“All set in here?” he asks.

“Just finishing,” Katherine says.

“I was wondering if you might like to join me on the porch.”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Melvin exclaims.

“Not you, you little interloper.”

“That’s alright, I’m just going to take my compliment and head on to the bunkhouse.”

“Good night, Melvin,” Katherine says, embracing him lightly. “Thank you for everything.”

“Good night, lovely lady.”

Katherine takes the hand that Mulder offers her and walks with him down the dogtrot to the porch. There are two chairs out there that she distinctly remembers being much further apart than they are now. She sits down first and he puts the lamp down on a small table between their chairs.

“Is it too cold out?” he asks. “Should I get a shawl for you?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Do you ever think about all those stars up there, how they got there?”

“A French astronomer named Charles Messier compiled a catalogue of star clusters and comets and galaxies in 1781.”

“Isn’t it strange that we’re here a hundred and some years later looking at those same clusters?”

“Not necessarily. Stars can die and new stars can be born.”

“I take it you don’t believe in star lore, then?”

“I know of Orion and Andromeda. But, those are just stories.”

“I believed in them when I was a boy.”

Katherine looks away from the stars and at Mulder. He still believes those stories, she can see it in his eyes. Or at least, he wants to believe. She’s never met anyone that looks at life the way he does, with the wonder and humor of a child, but the sharp mind of a genius. She likes to hear him talk.

“Tell me one of them,” she says. “Your favorite.”

“Orion is my favorite. You already know it.”

“Maybe I don’t remember it very well. I’d like to hear your version.”

“Orion was the son of Poseidon,” he says, tipping his head back and looking up at the sky. “He could walk on waves.”

Katherine tips her head back as well and as she listens to Mulder’s voice, her eyes grow heavy. Soon, he’s shaking her shoulder and helping her up from her chair to guide her inside.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s been quite a day.”

“Yes, it has.” She turns to him in the doorway of her room. The lamp at her bedside table is on low.

“I’ll say good night,” he whispers, and his eyes leave hers for a moment and bounce down to her lips and then back.

“Good night,” she answers, looking up at him and feeling a fair amount of anticipation for what might come next. It is their wedding night, after all.

Slowly, Mulder leans closer and then kisses her softly on the cheek. He stays where he is for a few moments, his nose lightly brushing the back of her jaw and his breath on her neck. She closes her eyes to await more, but then he steps back and she looks up at him.

“If you need anything,” he says, “I’ll be across the hall.”

“I can’t imagine that I will.”

His lips twist into that lopsided smile of his that looks like he’s trying to speak, but can’t seem to form the words. He nods once at her and then turns around. She watches him enter his room and then she closes her door with a sigh. That night she sleeps better than she has in years, maybe ever.


	11. The Ladies Who Lunch

Jack Willis is buried in the boneyard outside of town a week to the day after Mulder and Katherine meet. Mulder attends the burial, but Katherine does not. Aside from the gravedigger and the undertaker, no one is there to pay their respects. Mulder is only there to pay the two men for their time. 

Time has an interesting way of moving. When Mulder met Katherine, those first few days felt like the longest of his life. And now weeks slip by and it feels like he needs to slow things down. He remembers telling her his priority and focus is on the ranch, nothing more, yet now that she’s here, the ranch feels secondary to him in a time where he can’t afford to be distracted.

It’s coming up on October before he knows it and he’s got to get the horses ready to ride out to Fort Worth for the postal service. If the team he’s built up is satisfactory, there’s more work to be had and a government contract just may be forthcoming. If that’s not enough to occupy his time, with the new land he has thanks to his wife, he hopes to start in on the expansion before winter sets in.

Katherine fits in so well it’s like he can’t remember a time when she wasn’t there. He notices that she seems to fill a role with each of the ranch hands. For Trevor, it’s like the mother he never had. She darns his socks and patches the holes in his pants and reminds him to wash up for supper. He ‘yes, ma’am’s’ her more in a day than he’s ever ‘yes, sir’d’ Mulder in five months. 

Jesse and Jimmy are often good-naturedly teasing Katherine like a little sister. They challenge her into imaginary competitions like they bet she can’t drive the carriage in a circle around the barn or they bet she can’t make as good of an apple pie as Melvin or they bet she can’t catch all the suckling pigs in under a minute. For her part, she seems to enjoy proving them wrong.

Melvin treats Katherine almost reverently, like a father would a daughter. He speaks of her with pride when he tells Mulder of how she handles the carriage or how she’s put logical sense into the kitchen and the cellar shelves or how she read some beautiful verses from the bible to him. He notices that Katherine also worries over him like a devoted child as well, telling him to rest more, to sit down, not to overtax himself.

It’s been harder for Mulder to pinpoint the relationship Richard has with Katherine. Richard keeps to himself most of the time, but he has had the occasion to observe them speaking. One particular time, they were both crouched low and Katherine was scratching at the dirt with a stick. Richard was nodding thoughtfully and he moved away looking as though he was in deep contemplation. Mulder asked Katherine what they were conversing about.

“I asked him to make me a washing line on a pulley,” she said. “I was explaining where I wanted it, the type of pulley I would need and where the loosener should be fitted.” 

“I’m sure he’ll build you a very fine washing line.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. We were trying to determine which space might maximize efficiency. There’s a lot to think about; which way the wind is likely to blow, the position of the sun, where to keep the wash basin and ringer, for example. He’s going to think on it.”

So, Mulder determines that Richard thinks of Katherine like a colleague or an equal. She’s the one person he’s ever asked for advice from. If he runs into an obstacle, he seeks her out to talk it through instead of wallowing in self-loathing. Perhaps if the army had been populated by Katherines, Richard would still be there.

He’s been too busy to take Katherine out on another picnic, but they spend almost every evening sitting on the porch together. She is usually sewing and he tells her stories about the constellations or reads to her from his favorite book, Gulliver’s Travels. It’s a good thing she seems to enjoy listening because he’s never met a silence he can’t fill.

He’s packing for the trek to Fort Worth and remembers that Katherine still has his valise. It’s late, he wonders if she might be asleep, but he can see light coming from under the door, so he knocks quietly.

“Katherine?” he calls, as soft as he can in case he might disturb her.   
  


“You may come in,” she answers.

He opens the door and then cuts his eyes away for a moment when he sees she’s in her nightdress and a robe, sitting at the edge of the bedstead. “Oh, uh…”

“Yes?”

He looks at her and she’s combing her hair. He’s never seen it loose before and it’s wildly curled, like endless fiery waves over her shoulders and down her back. She always keeps it braided and he’s surprised she’s able to tame it so well. 

“I’ll be needing my valise.”

“Oh!” She sets the comb down on the bed and goes to the wardrobe. “I should have returned it to you weeks ago.”

“I’ll get you one of your own in Fort Worth.”

“What would I need with a valise?”

“For traveling.”

She hands him the valise and their hands meet on the handle. She doesn’t let go. “Traveling?” she asks. “Am I going somewhere?”

“Maybe one day you might like to take a trip somewhere. We could take a trip. A honeymoon, perhaps.”

Her brow shoots up and she releases the valise into his grip. He feels foolish for saying such a thing and bites his lip for a moment and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I only meant that maybe you’d like to accompany me when I need to return east some time. We could stop in New York City. See the electric bulbs in the park.”

“You would...you would take me east with you? To New York City?”

“I’m needed in Boston from time to time and I would love to bring you along.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I wish I could take you with us to Fort Worth.”

“I wouldn’t be able to go anyway.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have my own valise yet.” She smiles at him rather coquettishly and he chuckles.

“I will remedy that soon enough. Do you think you might miss me when I’m gone?”

“I may not have time to miss you. With half of you gone, I was planning to give the floors a good scrubbing. Not to mention, Richard is installing my washing line and I hope to get all the bedclothes washed. And of course there’s-”

“Alright, you can’t wait to see me gone and have me out from underfoot.”

“No, I…” She pauses, drops her chin and cocks her head to the side just a bit. “Keeping busy helps take my mind off things like missing people.”

He tries not to smile too broadly, but he knows the grin on his face must look foolish. He bites his lip and nods. “I’ll say good night, then,” he says. “And I’ll let you get back to...your bedtime rituals.”

“Good night. I will see you in the morning.”

He hesitates and then gestures a sort of farewell with the valise. As he starts to close the door, he can’t help himself and he stops. “I will miss you, in case you were wondering.”

“I suggest you try to keep yourself busy, then.”

He chuckles and closes the door behind him.

↭

Katherine is up early in the morning to make breakfast and to pack a nice noon dinner for Mulder, Jesse and Jimmy. Richard, Trevor and Melvin will be staying behind at the ranch. Even though she’s up before sunrise, the wagon is already packed and the horses have been saddled and hitched. The men eat quickly, eager to set out on their journey. Before they leave, Mulder pulls Katherine aside and gives her a bankroll.

“Don’t think I didn’t remember the first of the month is just a few days away,” he says. “I assume you’ll want to head into town and see Mr. Skinner about the mortgage due.”

“This looks like more than we agreed to.”

“Well, call it an advance. There’s a nice little cafe in town. See if you can’t treat your lady friends to a noon dinner while you’re there.”

She crushes the bankroll in her fist and tries to think of a place she can keep the money safe. He puts his hat on and then winks at her.

“Keep yourself busy,” he says, and then heads out into the morning light. She follows to the porch to watch him go.

Jesse is driving the team of horses pulling the wagon and Jimmy rides next to him on the horse they call Faithful Jenny. Mulder mounts Blondie and turns to give her a wave before he takes the lead on the small party and then they are off and she already feels a pang of longing for him to return.

The first two days, she keeps busy with the scrubbing she’d told him she wanted to do and prepares for a day of heavy laundry. She helps Richard with the hanging of the washing line and with a few adjustments and tightening of the rope and pulley, it works as smoothly as she’d hoped.

On Friday, she dons the new calico skirt she’s only just finished sewing, a fresh blouse, a pair of black gloves she purchased at the mercantile but has not yet had occasion to wear, and ties on the hat that Mulder gave her the day they married. She asks Melvin if he could hitch up the carriage for her and though she’s terribly nervous about her first foray into town by herself, she knows she can do it. She’s put in a good amount of training with Melvin learning how to drive these last few weeks and there has to be a first time for everything.

Lady is ready and waiting with the carriage when she comes outside after having secured her money into a hidden pocket she’s sewn into her skirt. She’s more afraid of losing the money or having it stolen off of her than she is for problems driving the carriage.

“You sure you don’t want me to ride with you?” Melvin asks. “I can saddle up George and follow you even, if’n you’d like me to do that.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I’m just going to go to the bank and drop in on Mrs. Byers and Mrs. Doggett. I’ve boiled some eggs and took out some canned pears. There’s enough salt pork left to fry up.”

“Don’t worry about the kitchen today, go have yourself a nice time in town. But, if’n you’re not back here before the sun drops west, I’m comin’ out there after you.”

“Lady, walk on now. I’ll be back soon!”

She can scarcely believe she’s driving a carriage on her own, making her way into town, and yet she is. Even Lady seems to sense her excitement and prances down the road in a nice, quick trot. Katherine smiles when she passes the trees she recognizes from her picnic with Mulder. Her arms are tired by the time she makes it into town, but she feels exhilarated by her accomplishment.

“Well done,” she tells Lady after tying her to the post and rubbing her cheek. Lady nods and shakes her head.

The bank is busier than when she was there before. The teller is assisting a man at the window and two others wait behind him. One of them nods and tips his hat to her when she walks in. She waits as well and looks past the line to see if she can spot Mr. Skinner, but his office door is closed. She becomes a little anxious when she waits, not sure of what she is to say to the teller. She thought she might just walk in and be able to speak with Mr. Skinner. Soon, it’s her turn and she steps up to the window and then fumbles for the money concealed in her pocket.

“I am here to pay my mortgage due,” she says.

“Name on the account,” the teller asks.

“Um, Jack Willis, I believe.”

“One moment.”

The teller turns away and then opens a box. He takes out a stack of small cards which he quickly shuffles through and removes one. He returns to the window and takes up a pen that he dips in ink.

“Ten dollars and sixty cents,” he says as he’s writing on the card.

Katherine carefully counts out eleven dollars and then slides it into the tray at the window. The teller counts it as quickly as he shuffled the cards and he puts it into another tray below the counter. He slides forty cents change back to her and the card as well.

“Sign, please,” he says.

She hesitates with the pen in her hand. She does not know what name to write. Should she sign Katherine Willis, or Katherine Mulder?

“You can mark an ‘x’ if you are illiterate,” he says.

“No, I am not illiterate,” she answers. “I was recently remarried, I am unsure if I should sign with that name.”

“Who’s your husband?”

“William Mulder.”

“Wait here.”

She begins to feel nervous all over again. Another man has come into the bank as she’s been at the window and is now waiting for her to finish. She doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if she should leave and come back, but the teller told her to wait and so she waits. She starts to perspire and she loosens the tie on her hat. She whirls around when someone says her name.

“Mrs. Mulder,” Walter Skinner says. “I’m glad you’ve come by.”

“You are?”

“I’ll take it from here, Mr. Crawford.” He takes the card from the counter and gestures for Katherine to go ahead of him to his office. She returns the pen and then goes with Mr. Skinner. He makes an imposing figure and rather reminds her of her father, which makes her all the more nervous.

“Is something the matter?” she asks, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Not at all. Mr. Mulder was in earlier this week before his trip out to Fort Worth. I just have a paper here for you to sign adding you to his account.”

“Adding me to his account? What does that mean?”

“It means you are able to make deposits or withdrawals on your husband’s account, provided we have your signature on file.”

She stares at him, incredulous. She doesn’t even know what name she should sign with to pay her mortgage and now she’s expected to have access to a bank account?

“I have my own money here,” she says. “I don’t think I need Mulder’s account. Do I?”

“He added your name on Monday and asked that when you came in to make the mortgage payment that I have you sign the paperwork.”

“I must confess this is all very new to me, Mr. Skinner. I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to sign this card as Katherine Willis or Katherine Mulder.”

“That card just keeps a record of the payments. My teller signs it saying he received the money and you sign it saying you paid it. You don’t have anything to worry about there, but I think that you should go ahead and sign as Katherine Mulder from now on.”

She nods and he gives her a pen to sign the card. It’s the first time she’s written her married name on anything and it feels strange. She never did get accustomed to being Mrs. Willis, but when Skinner had called her Mrs. Mulder earlier, she answered without hesitation. She hands him the card and he passes her the paper she’s to sign for Mulder’s account.

“And just so you’re aware,” he says. “I expect the transfer of your lease to be returned by next week. It will be filed under your joint account, so be sure to request the mortgage under your own name next time.”

“I will remember. Thank you for helping me, Mr. Skinner.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Mulder.”

She leaves the bank with much less of a triumphant feeling than she felt in successfully driving the carriage. In fact, she feels as though she has hardly taken a breath in that whole time. She steps down to Lady and rests her forehead against the horse’s neck and strokes her mane.

“We’ve done it,” she whispers to the horse.

“Katherine?”

Katherine steps back from the horse and turns towards the voice that called her name. She sees Monica Doggett hurrying towards her across the dirt road, waving to her. She waves back.

“I thought that was you,” Monica says, greeting Katherine with a warm embrace. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Yes, you as well, Mrs. Doggett.”

“Ach, Monica, please. Mrs. Doggett is my mother-in-law and trust me, there’s only room enough in this world for one Mrs. Doggett.” Monica laughs and squeezes Katherine’s hands. “What brings you to town?”

“I had a banking matter to attend to.”

“Are you here long?”

“Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. I wasn’t sure how to find you, but I was just on my way to drop in on Susannah Byers and I thought she might know.”

“We’re down on this road if you keep going over the bridge ahead. Can’t miss it. If I’m not there, it’s probably because I’m running something over to John.”

“I’ll remember that. Mulder told me there was a cafe in town and I should invite you and Susannah for a noon dinner. I’d understand if you’re busy with chores or errands though.” 

“Are you kidding? I would love nothing more. And if I know Susannah, she will be absolutely delighted by the offer. Is this your carriage? Did you drive in all on your own?”

“I did. Though Lady did most of the work.”

“How thrilling. Shall we?”

Katherine climbs up into the carriage and Monica hops up next to her in the passenger seat. It takes nothing but a few minutes to end up at the mercantile and Monica steps down first and waits at the foot of the porch steps for Katherine.

John Byers is standing before a display table with a clipboard and pencil, taking notes. He smiles when the ladies come in and puts the pencil behind his ear.

“Good morning, ladies,” he says.

“Mr. Byers,” Katherine answers.

“We’ve come to collect your wife,” Monica says. “You won’t mind if we borrow her for a bit to have dinner at the cafe, do you?”

“Not at all. Let me go and get her.”

“Oh, how darling.” Monica holds up a knitted pair of baby booties that she picks up from a table. “Sometimes I sure can’t believe my little ones used to fit into socks this small.”

“You have children?”

“Two. Luke and Sarah. Sarah just turned nine and Luke will be fifteen in just a couple weeks. Do you have any children?”

“No.”

“Well, there’s plenty of time. And when that time does come, I promise I’m the best midwife all of Texas has to offer.”

Katherine gives Monica a polite smile. “I’m certain you are.”

“Oh my word, is it true?” Susannah comes bustling into the storefront, throwing off an apron that she carelesses flings in her husband’s direction. John catches it with one hand. “We’re going to go out to dinner? Is that right? Oh, let me get my hat. John, how could you let me walk out without my hat! I’ll hurry back. Don’t go nowhere you two!”

Monica laughs and then winks at Katherine. “I told you Susannah would be delighted.”

When Susannah returns, the three ladies head out of the store and Susannah leads the way down the boardwalk to the cafe. Katherine worries a little about leaving the horse and carriage, but Susannah tells her not to fret that it’ll be fine where it is. They’re seated next to a window at a table for four and after ordering some cold cut sandwiches and lemonades, Susannah and Monica start to gossipping about people Katherine has never heard of. She’s content to listen to the conversation and doesn’t mind that she isn’t required to participate.

“Oh, but listen to us,” Susannah says. “We’re being rude. Katherine, I haven’t even asked after your husband or how you’re faring out on the ranch.”

“Mulder is well. He’s in Fort Worth right now to take a team of horses to the United States post office.”

“You didn’t join him?” Monica asks. “When John and I were first married, I’m telling you he couldn’t hardly walk down the road without pulling me along.”

“I’d much rather stay behind anyway. There’s so much to tend to at the ranch and...well, the truth of it is, I would just like to stay put for awhile. That was one of the reasons I married Mulder in the first place. To just...to just stay still.”

“You did a lot of traveling around with your first husband, didn’t you?” Susannah asks.

“Too much. In four years I don’t think we were ever in the same place for more than a few weeks. And then we ended up here and it was like there was nowhere left to go.” 

Monica nods and then she reaches across the table and puts her hands over Katherine’s. “I did have the occasion to meet Jack Willis once,” she says, petting Katherine’s hand lightly. “He had the blackest aura I’ve ever seen. You must have been miserable.”

“It wasn’t a very happy marriage. I don’t know what an aura has to do with that. I don’t even know what an aura is.”

“Oh, Lord, Monica, not the auras!” Susannah throws her hands up, but chuckles.

“There’s a belief that all people put off energy,” Monica says. “Like a candle putting off heat.”

“Monica is an enthusiast of alternative ideas.” 

Monica laughs. “John was posted in San Francisco for a few years and I met the most fascinating people there that believe in some of the most extraordinary things.”

“We had a preacher come through here once that called her a heretic,” Susannah adds. “In the middle of a sermon.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have become a preacher if he didn’t want to answer questions.”

Katherine looks between the two women and shakes her head. “Energy is the quantitative property that must be transferred to an object in order to perform work on the object,” she says. “Like measuring the temperature required to boil water.”

Monica glances at Susannah and she shrugs. “I don’t know what any of that means,” Susannah says. “I just turn the stove on and wait for the bubbles.”

“Have you ever gotten a bad feeling when you meet someone for the first time?” Monica asks. “Or even a really good feeling?”

“Yes.”

“You’re feeling their energy. Auras are like...I suppose they’re like a way of measuring a person’s disposition.”

“I don’t know how you would measure a feeling.”

“Auras are the colors of the energy that people put off. Some people are lucky enough to see them.”

“And you’re one of those people?”

“I am. Anyone can see them though if they want to. It’s about opening yourself up to possibilities.”

“How does one open oneself up to possibilities?”

“I think it starts with inner peace. Really letting go of fear and doubt and not worrying so much about the past or the future and being extremely present in the moment.”

“I see.”

“Your husband is mostly blue, but there is some red there too. He’s very compassionate, loyal, trustworthy, and nurturing, but also driven and hard-working.”

“I don’t really think you need an aura to tell you that. Just as I don’t think you need an aura to tell you that Jack was surly and unpleasant.”

“No, but I could tell right away, even without knowing you, that you and Mulder belong together. You can’t tell me you weren’t drawn to him immediately, even if you didn’t know why.”

“I was intrigued by him, I will admit that.”

“And you knew he was someone you could marry even though you’d only known him for a day.”

“But, she didn’t really have much of a choice in that,” Susannah interjects.

“I did though,” Katherine confesses. “He offered me money for my land, land I didn’t even own, and he said he would help me start out somewhere if I wanted.”

“And you chose to marry him.” Monica smiles.

“He was kind to me when he didn’t have to be. I know I didn’t know hardly anything about him, but still I felt...very fond of him.”

Monica nods knowingly. “Your auras.”

“I’m a yellow,” Susannah says. “But, Monica, you haven’t said what Katherine is.”

“Would you like to know?”

“You might as well tell me.”

“You are almost equally tan and crystal. Which means you’re very private, cautious and practical. And you’re a healer.”

All of those things are true, but Monica could come by those conclusions without more than a few minutes conversation with her. The part about being a healer though, that is a little disturbing. The waiter comes over with their tray of sandwiches and lemonades and the conversation falls to the wayside. Katherine wonders what color Monica is, but doesn’t want to ask, lest Monica think she somehow believes in that kind of foolishness. People emitting colors? How absurd.


	12. The Visitor

Fort Worth is not the city that Boston is, but it’s working it’s way up. It’s bustling and busy and the first time he’d taken Jesse and Jimmy with him, Mulder had feared he may lose the brothers to the excitement of it all. He was pleased to find out the pair were more like him and preferred a slower pace and less crowds. He doesn’t have to worry about them gambling or picking fights or looking for any other kind of trouble.

The demonstration they give and the training they provide to the postal service is a success. The horses are installed in their new home and position as a delivery team and Mulder will be bringing eight horses back to the ranch to train as a set of two teams. He celebrates the job well done by giving Jesse and Jimmy an early bonus and sending the two off to do some sightseeing. Deciding he’d like to do a bit of shopping himself, he sets out from their hotel to the city center.

For the last few weeks, Mulder has been making a mental list of the things he’d like to get for Katherine. He doesn’t care if she protests, he has a mind to spoil her, and she’ll just have to get accustomed to being spoiled. His first stop is a book shop where he inquires after the most current science journals and texts. While browsing the bookshelves, he also finds a copy of The Taming of the Shrew and purchases it for a laugh.

The next stop he makes is to a rather impressive three-story building called The Martin-Brown Co. It advertises clothing, dry goods, and other notions, which is exactly what he’s after. He buys ten yards of a wool fabric dyed a shade of blue that reminds him of her eyes, two pairs of boots using a template he secretly traced of Katherine’s shoes for size, several pairs of stockings, a new shawl, an overcoat, and the valise he promised. Everything is to be wrapped and sent to his hotel.

The last stop he makes is to a jeweler. He would give Katherine his mother’s ring, were it not for the fact that it currently resides in a safe deposit box in Boston. Even if it were in his possession, he has a feeling that Katherine would consider it too lavish and perhaps she would be right. Though beautifully made with several square-cut diamonds, a working ranch would not be the best place to wear such a ring.

He wants to get something to symbolize the marriage though, not just for her, but for himself. A simple gold band is easy enough to find for his own finger, but it’s tougher to pick just the right ring for his wife. A very nice salesman assists him in trying to find the perfect piece.

“I want it to be nice,” he tells the associate. “She’d probably like something plain, but I still think it should at least have a stone in it. I also don’t want her to fret over it getting in the way of the household chores.”

“I think I can help you with that,” the man says. He pulls out a tray of nice-looking bands, diamonds of various shapes and sizes twinkling from all of them, but still none of them seem quite right.

He looks through four trays of rings and has it narrowed between a gold band with a row of very small diamonds and pearls or a silver band with three one carat diamonds, when another ring catches his eye.

“What’s that stone?” he asks the clerk.

“That’s a sapphire. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes.”

The man takes the ring of the tray and hands it to Mulder. He inspects it carefully. It’s a gold band with three stones inset in a row of small squares, like patchwork almost. The middle stone is the sapphire, flanked on either side by two diamonds. 

“What do you call this design?” Mulder asks.

“In the middle where the sapphire sits is called a pinched square mount. On either side of that is what’s called a diamond mount on a geometric plaque. On the shoulder here you’ll see there’s criss-cross etching.”

“I think this might be the one.”

“An excellent choice.”

“Let me just...let me just look at them one last time and give me a minute to consider.”

“Take your time, Sir.”

Mulder puts the ring down and looks over the trays again, focusing on the three main contenders. He has doubts about the three diamonds and so just looks to the sapphire and the diamonds and pearls.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to a different ring that he seems to have missed in his earlier inspection, focused as he was on finding the perfect stone. “Are those hands? Holding a heart?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s a claddagh ring. It’s Irish.”

“Irish?”

“Yes, I can’t say I know the origins, but you’ll note the inside is stamped with what this type of ring is meant to symbolize.”

Mulder turns the ring around to read the inscription. “Love. Friendship. Loyalty.”

“We have this one as well, if that doesn’t suit you.” The clerk pulls out yet another tray and the same design of the ring Mulder is holding is etched into the interior of the band with loops around the band that look like infinity rings.

Mulder is torn. He’s leaning towards the sapphire because the stone is gorgeous, but this claddagh ring seems more suitable, even if it’s not as elegant or flashy. He’s not the one that will be wearing the ring though, Katherine is. And he tries to think about it from her perspective. He could probably buy three or four of these claddagh rings for the same price as the sapphire, but the value of the simpler ring feels immeasurably greater.

“That’s the one I want,” Mulder tells the clerk, nodding to the etched silver claddagh ring the man is holding.

  
“Very well.”

“And the gold band as well. What type of boxes do you have?”

“Right this way.”

Mulder follows the clerk to the other side of the store where there is a case of boxes on display. He selects a black box, oval-shaped, made of leather. There’s a small gold latch at the front and a gilded border on the top of the case. The interior is standard velvet and satin.

After Mulder leaves the jewelry store he heads back to the hotel. The desk clerk informs him his packages have arrived and been taken to his room. He closes himself in the room and looks at the items that are neatly placed onto his bed. He takes the ring box out of his pocket and opens it up to look at it.

Diana comes to mind. All these items he’s purchased would seem paltry to her. He was always happy to lavish her back when they were courting, but she was never satisfied. There was no such thing as too much for Diana and nothing was ever good enough. Katherine is different and he needs to remember that. He fears that Katherine will see all of this and be cross with him. The perfect simplicity of the ring in his hand makes him realize that there is more to loving someone than purchasing trinkets.

Money is no object to him. The ranch does well, but it’s not the source of his income, it’s the source of his joy and passion. He doesn’t know with absolute certainty, but from what he does know of her, he feels that Katherine gets her joy from learning new things and from stimulating conversation. Out of all the items packaged up on his bed, what she will probably be the most grateful for are the four issues of a magazine called Science: An Illustrated Journal and one called The Popular Science Monthly.

The ring and the books aside, he tells himself that the items he’s purchased are practical. He hasn’t gotten anything she can’t use and what wouldn’t be considered unnecessary, but that’s not really the point. 

Well, he isn’t going to take the items back, so he packs each one up into the new valise and thinks that maybe it’s a good thing that at the very least, everything fits nicely into the travel bag. He keeps her ring in his pocket though, along with the little pouch that holds his band. He doesn’t want to wear his quite yet. Not until she can put it on his finger for him.

↭

Katherine is setting out items onto the table in the kitchen to make a pie. Mulder and Jesse and Jimmy are due back the next day and she’d like to have something nice to welcome them home with. She’s just sat down to start peeling apples when she hears Queenie bark.

Over the last month, she’s grown accustomed to the sounds of the ranch, and in particular, the way that Queenie herds her flock of sheep. Her bark is usually quick and no-nonsense. This bark that she hears now raises the hairs at the back of her neck. This bark is more like a snarl. A warning.

Katherine jumps up from the table and hurries to the back door. She sees Queenie by the pens, crouched low and backing away from something slowly. The dog growls and snaps as she lunges forward and then retreats again. Initially, Katherine can’t spot the threat, but then she sees it, black as midnight and sleek, slinking around the side of the corner pen with caution, but without hesitation. She’s heard there were panthers in these parts, but never seen one.

Melvin is running from the bunkhouse, waving his arms and hollering. Richard is behind him with a pistol. She doesn’t spot Trevor, but now is the time that he’s usually watering the animals so he must be out there somewhere, trapped where he is.

“My God,” Katherine whispers before turning and running to the other side of the dogtrot.

There are four rifles hung on pegs in the middle of the wall and a cartridge belt hanging alongside them. Mulder had told her before not to touch the firearms. They’re always loaded, he’d said, just in case. Leave them be. Of course, he probably assumed she had no idea how to use one. She grabs the cartridge belt and swings it over her left shoulder and then pulls down one of the rifles and holds it crosswise against her stomach and pointed to the ground as she runs back to the door, cocking the lever as she goes.

Without much thought beyond eliminating the threat, Katherine stands positioned in the doorway, a good fifty to sixty yards from the pens. Melvin is whistling and hooting, trying to get the enormous cat’s attention. All the animals are agitated. The goats and sheep are bleating and the hogs are grunting. The chicks are fluttering in the coop and clucking like crazy.

“Stay back!” Melvin yells at her.

“Don’t move,” she yells back, raising the butt of the rifle to her shoulder. She cocks her head and closes her right eye, lining the cat up in her sights. She’s not in a good position to shoot to kill, but she can definitely incapacitate if she aims right.

She has to do it quick. The panther is stalking Queenie quietly, not at all threatened by the barking dog. It’s not close enough to lunge, but it’s getting there. “God, help me,” Katherine mutters, and then cocks the hammer and squeezes the trigger. The recoil causes the butt to slam into her shoulder, as anticipated. She winces, but doesn’t take her eyes off the panther. It screams seconds after the discharge, baring its teeth as one of its front arms collapses. She hit it in the shoulder, just as she’d aimed to.

There’s no time to waste. She reaches up and grabs a cartridge off the belt over her shoulder and shoves it into the ejection port. It’s cocked and reloaded in under ten seconds, but it feels like eternity. The panther is now on the defensive, limping backwards and screeching as Queenie barks and takes small lunges towards it. A frothy and red saliva starts to drip from its mouth.

Katherine keeps the rifle at her shoulder and the panther in her sights as she steps sideways to get behind Queenie. She prays as she moves that the dog keeps its distance and she prays that the panther doesn’t charge forward with a surge of adrenaline. Worst case scenario, she shoots the dog before the panther. Best case scenario, she only has to kill one living creature today.

Queenie snaps viscously at the injured panther and it hisses in response. As it raises its head and bares its teeth, Katherine fires once more, hitting it in the jugular. The panther goes down without a whimper. Queenie is still barking and snapping as Katherine lowers the gun. She walks to the dog and pulls her back by the scruff to hold her in place.

Melvin comes running. He’s puffing and sweating by the time he reaches her and grabs hold of Queenie as well as the dog twists and yelps to be set free. Richard walks to the panther and crouches low over it, inspecting it from all angles.

“Where’s Trevor?” Katherine asks.

“I ain’t seen him.”

“Trevor!” Katherine calls.

“Go on,” Melvin says. “I got Queenie.”

Katherine stands and scans the pens. The animals are still agitated, running to and fro and loudly voicing their anxiety. She spots Trevor crouched low behind the hog trough, trembling. She sets the rifle up against the fence and climbs over into the hog pen and kneels down beside Trevor. It’s obvious he’s wet himself and she puts a hand on his back to soothe him.

“It’s alright,” she tells him. “It’s over.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” he tells her. His voice is shaking right along with the rest of him.

“You did exactly as you were supposed to do, you kept yourself safe.”

“I saw him come down from that hill back yonder and I tried hollerin’, but nothing came out. And then Queenie started kicking up a fuss and all I could think was that I got to hide.”

“You did good, Trevor. Queenie’s worked up, but she’s alright. Who knows what that panther would’ve done if it had spotted you.”

“You shot ‘em.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father taught me, when I was small.”

“I ain’t ever had a father.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“You wasn’t scared?”

“I was terribly scared.”

“But, you didn’t look scared.”

“I had the advantage of being near to the rifles, knowing they were loaded, and knowing how to shoot. If I had been in your position, I would have done exactly as you did.”

“My hands don’t want to seem to quit shakin’.”

“That’s alright, it’ll stop soon enough. Let’s get you up and you run on to the bunkhouse and clean yourself up, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You bring your clothes on over to the laundry basket when you’re done and I’ll get a load done tonight.”

“Sorry to be so much trouble.”

“No trouble at all, sweetheart.”

Katherine helps Trevor stand and keeps a hand on his back. He’s taller than her by about half a foot, but he seems small in this moment. He is careful climbing the fence, still weak with fear. She climbs over after him and takes up the rifle. The cartridge belt is laying in the dirt. She hadn’t noticed it had slipped from her shoulder. She picks that up as well and waits until Trevor has started to weave his way to the bunkhouse to go over to where Melvin and Richard are hovering over the dead panther.

“I put Queenie up in the barn and give her some hamburger,” Melvin says. “She’ll calm herself in due time.”

“When this story gets told,” Katherine says, trying to sound as serious and authoritative as she can. “I’d like you to please do me a favor and make it very clear that Trevor was trapped where he was. I know how boys are and the last thing Trevor needs is to be shamed for being afraid of a panther.”

“I’ll see to it,” Melvin says.

“We best get rid of the carcass before any scavengers come sniffing around,” Richard says.

“I’m going to see about the pie I was fixing.” She turns to walk away and then stops. “I take no pride or glory in killing that panther. I did what had to be done.”

“You done good,” Melvin tells her. 

Katherine nods and returns to the house. She dusts off the cartridge belt and hangs it back on the nail beside the rifles. She loads a cartridge into the chamber, leaves it half-cocked, and puts it back in its place. 


	13. The Return

Mulder can tell something isn’t quite right when they roll up to the ranch. The chickens are up in their coop and none of the goats are roaming around. The barn is shut up and Queenie doesn’t run to greet them as she usually does.

“Can you handle the team on your own?” he asks Jesse.

Jesse nods in the affirmative and Mulder clicks at Blondie and squeezes his calves against her sides. The horse starts galloping up the dirt road towards the barn. Mulder spots Melvin and Richard together on the rise behind the barn as he approaches. Melvin takes his hat off and waves.

Mulder pulls the horse to a stop and slides out of the saddle in one fluid move. He runs to Melvin and Richard, his heart galloping in his chest about as fast as the horse just ran.

“What’s happened?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s alright,” Melvin says. “We just had ourselves a little visitor yesterday that’s caused a bit of a hubbub.”

“Who?”

“Not who,” Richard says. “What.”

“A panther come by,” Melvin explains. 

Mulder feels his knees weaken. “Where is she?” he demands.

“Who? The panther?”

“Katherine! Where is she?!”

“I think she’s up in the house. Let me tell you, you married yourself a regular Annie Oakley.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“She shot him dead,” Richard answers. “Maimed him on the first shot, kilt him on the second. All quicker than you can say boo to a ghost.”

“And the two of you just stood by? Why weren’t you protecting her?”

“Well, hey now,” Melvin says, but Mulder doesn’t wait for any explanations or excuses. He turns tail and runs to the house to find Katherine.

When he bursts through the back door, he finds her immediately in the kitchen, setting the table. She’s clearly startled and drops the cutlery she’s holding onto a plate. He’s so glad to see her, glad she’s alright, glad she’s going about her day with normal things like setting a table. He throws his hat down, walks around the table to her, grabs her by the waist, and kisses her. Not on the cheek, not on the brow, but on the lips.

Between the two of them, he’s not sure who’s more shocked by the kiss. When he initially pulls back, her eyes are wide and that single eyebrow of hers is raised higher than he’s ever seen it. He can’t believe he’s done what he just did, but he’s not sorry for it. He shakes his head slightly, preparing to stammer out an apology anyway, but her eyes drop down to his mouth and the only thing he can think about is kissing her again. Instead of apologizing, he does just that. His arms wrap themselves fully around her, bringing her against him. She squeaks a little and her lips part against his as though she’s going to say something. He moves a hand to the back of her head to hold her just a little longer. Her hands come up his back to his shoulders and then drop down under his arms and around to his chest before he breaks away.

They’re both breathing hard. He holds her wrists where her hands rest at his chest and runs his thumbs up and down over hers. They stare at each other until she pulls one of her hands free and touches his jaw. She strokes the whiskers that have grown out since his week away and he reaches up and holds her hand to his cheek, squeezing her fingers.

“I, uh...,” he says.

“Is that your way of telling me you missed me?” she asks.

He almost sighs with relief that she isn’t angry. There’s a small part of him that took her hands in his so she wouldn’t slap him, though he would agree that he deserved it if she had.

“I did miss you,” he answers. “Did you miss me?”

“I...kept myself busy.” She smiles at him and he has to give a little laugh.

“Yes, you did.” He nods. “Killing panthers, I hear.”

“Yes, well.”

“You’re alright?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I actually didn’t stick around to hear the full story, I just know we had a panther on the property. And that you shot it.”

She snorts a little. “Yes, a panther showed up, Queenie was fit to be tied over it. I was in here about to bake a pie when I heard her. So, I grabbed the rifle and I shot the panther. That’s all.”

“And you’re sure you’re not hurt?”

“My shoulder might be a bit sore from the recoil. It’s been some time since I’ve shot a rifle, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

He hugs her to him and sighs. “Kate, I think my heart tried to escape my chest when Melvin told me you had to kill a panther.”

“I suppose that’s why you came in here all crackpot and kissed me then?” 

“I’ve actually wanted to kiss you for quite some time, I guess getting a bit spooked just gave me the courage.”

She’s slow to answer. “Well, it was nothing,” she finally says.

He loosens his embrace on her and leans back, keeping his hands at her back. “Killing a panther isn’t nothing,” he says. “I wish I’d been here.”

“Why? What would you have done? Tried to reason with him?”

“No, I’d have shot him.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I did.”

“Yes, you did. Melvin and Richard seemed mighty impressed, too.”

“Can we please move on from the panther? Tell me how things went in Fort Worth.”

“Good. We brought eight horses back with us to train up.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“I got something for you.”

“I told you, you don’t need-”

“I know, I know.” He steps back to fish the pouch and the ring box out of his pocket. “I don’t need to get anything for you, but sometimes I just can’t help myself and I’ll work on that little problem of mine, but it truly did brighten my day to do some shopping for you and I hope you’ll receive this with the intent in which I give it.”

“What is it?”

“Here.” He opens the pouch first and drops the gold band into her hand. “I wanted us to have wedding bands. We are married after all.”

He holds his hand out to her and she hesitates for a few moments, but then takes his hand and slides the band onto his finger. He smiles and pockets the pouch before he shows her the ring box for her band.

“I just don’t know that I can picture myself wearing something fancy,” she says. “I know you mean well, but I’d be terribly afraid of losing it or damaging it somehow and with all the work here, I just think…”

“I thought of all that.” He nods in understanding. “And let me tell you, the salesman had me on the hook for a beautiful blue stone called a sapphire and I wanted to get it for you more than anything, but I didn’t think it would speak to you in the same way it spoke to me.”

“I’m sure it was beautiful.”

“I got this instead.” He opens the box and holds it out to her.

She opens her mouth and then looks up at him before she turns her eyes back to the ring. She touches it softly with her fingertip. “A claddagh,” she says. “How did you know about these?”

“Well, I didn’t. Not until I noticed how unusual it was and asked about it. When I saw the stamp on the inside, I knew I had to get it.”

She takes the ring out of the box and tilts it to read the inside. “I will wear it,” she says, and gives him the ring and then her hand.

Mulder puts the box down on the table and holds her left hand with his. He moves to put the ring on, but she stops him and shakes her head.

“We’re married. The heart should be pointed down towards my hand.”

“I didn’t know.” He flips the ring between his fingers and then slides it onto hers.

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. I have a few other things that I need to get from the wagon. Speaking of which, I should probably go on and help the boys with getting the horses settled. And I owe some apologies to Melvin and Richard.”

“What for?”

“Leaping to conclusions.”

“See if you can’t get things done soon, supper is almost ready.”

“I can smell it.” Mulder lifts his head and sniffs the air. “Meatloaf?”

“And mashed potatoes.”

“My favorite.”

“I know.”

“And I believe you said something about a pie?”

“Apple.”

“It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home.”

“So, you did miss me?”

She closes her eyes briefly and smiles. “Go on and help the boys. I’ll ring the bell when supper’s ready.”

He nods and turns to go. He picks his hat up off the floor and when he looks back, he sees her looking at her hand, touching the ring on her finger and smiling softly.

↭

When she thinks about that kiss Mulder gave her, her lips tingle. It was entirely unexpected, but not unwelcome. She may have presented a nonchalant response over it, but her insides had felt fluttery and jittery in a way she’s never experienced before. And then he gave her that ring.

She touches the ring now, twists it back and forth against her finger. It fits her perfectly and it’s exactly what she always wanted. Her grandmother had a claddagh ring that she had hoped would be hers one day. Those hopes were dashed four years ago. The wedding band she’d worn through her first marriage, until Jack sold it, was plain and simple. Just a gold band with a solitary opal. She thinks it had once belonged to Jack’s mother. Still, it always felt heavy on her finger. Unnatural.

After supper, she goes to her room and finds the new valise he’d promised her sitting on the bed. Inside, there are new clothes and fabric, a copy of The Taming of the Shrew, and a set of magazines. She has to sit down when she sees they are science journals, overcome with gratitude and awe. She’s hugging them to her chest when Mulder comes to the doorway. He’s trimmed his beard down and looks like he’s freshly washed. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I know I keep saying that you don’t have to do anything for me, but I appreciate this more than you know.”

“I’m glad. It’s my pleasure. I was just about to head out to the porch for a bit. I’ve missed our talks.”

“Oh.” She hesitates and looks down at the journals. She’s eager to start reading.

“I’ll bring the lamp out. You could read an article or two to me from one of the magazines.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

She takes her new shawl and wraps it around her shoulders and then follows Mulder outside to the porch with Popular Science under her arm. He puts the lamp on the table and she moves her chair a little closer to see better. She thumbs through the magazine for something that might interest them both.

“Here’s an article entitled ‘Origin of Color in Animals,’” she says.

“Sounds like a fable.”

She puts the magazine down on her lap. “That reminds me, I had lunch with Susannah and Monica, as you said I should do.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Monica told me what auras were. She said that all people emit colors that tells you what kind of person they are, and that she can see these colors.”

“Huh. Well, that’s very interesting. What color do I emit? I’m sure she must have told you.”

“Blue and red, is what she said.”

“Those are good colors. I think. How about you?”

“Tan and crystal.”

“That must be very interesting for her. I’d like to see an aura.”

“You believe her?”

“If she says she sees them, why wouldn’t I believe it?”

“People can’t emit color.”

“Why not?”

“Because...because they can’t.”

“What if some scientist somewhere writes about it for one of those journals in your hand?”

“They would have to have proof.”

“Couldn’t someone’s word be proof enough? If you trusted them?”

“Well...no.”

Mulder chuckles. “Alright, Kate. Tell me about the animals and their colors then.”

She hesitates for a beat, but then smoothes the page of her magazine and brings it closer to read.

“Oh wait,” he says. “Before you start, I actually wanted to tell you that while I was in Fort Worth I met with a man who’s going to come out in a few weeks and survey the land.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve hired him to take a look at things and do some designs for an addition to the house and bigger stables, a new corral, that sort of thing.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed for some reason. Are you disappointed?”

“Not exactly.”

“In my experience, that means yes.”

She twists the wedding ring on her finger back and forth with her thumb. “I guess I thought I just might have some say in the matter.”

“Of course you’ll have say in the matter. To an extent.”

She frowns. “I guess that means all your talk was just that.”

“What have I gone back on my word about?”

“Nothing. I just thought that...I thought that it was my land too. I went and paid the mortgage on the first.”

“With money that I gave you.” He chuckles as though it’s a silly joke, but she bristles at how condescending and placating what he’s just said feels. Her eyes begin to water and she angrily grits her teeth and knits her brow to push back any tears. She is so damn tired of being beholden to the whims of some man. Mulder had led her to believe he was different. She was foolish enough to think that he could be.

“It’s always been about the land hasn’t it?” she asks. “The job you gave me, it means nothing. My name on the lease is just a...just a farce.”

“Kate-”

“Don’t call me that. You only seem to call me Kate when you think I’m being unreasonable or foolish. When...when you’re referencing The Shrew.”

“I don’t think I do, and, well, you are being a little unreasonable, don’t you think?”

She gets up out of the chair and he grabs for her hand, which she yanks away, causing her to stumble backwards. He jumps up quickly and she flinches as her immediate retreat causes her to bang her hip into the porch railing.

“Sit down, honey,” he says, gesturing to the chair and holding his arm out towards her, but not touching her. “There’s nothing to get worked up about. You’ve dropped your magazine.” He bends and picks up the journal from the ground, flattens the bent page, and then brushes the cover free of any dirt.

Her wrist throbs from ripping it from his grasp so quickly and her hip smarts where she hit it. She holds her hand, rubbing the top of her wrist lightly and praying she hasn’t given herself a sprain. Cautiously, she perches at the front of the chair, takes the magazine from Mulder, and places it on her lap. 

“Go ahead and do what you’d like,” she says.

“Kate...Katherine, I don’t understand why this has upset you, I really don’t. All I’ve done is hired a man to do a survey.”

She says nothing and stares out at the silhouettes of the treetops and the hills in the distance. The land is so vast it seems illogical that it should make her feel so claustrophobic, but it does. Knowing there is nowhere to go and that she’s trapped, once again.

“Talk to me,” he says. “Even if it’s just to tell me to go to the blazes, please say something.”

“I would like to go to bed.”

She doesn’t look at him, but in her periphery, she can see him twist his mouth. He grits his teeth and the muscle in his jaw jumps and quivers. She turns her head away just slightly.

“You don’t need my permission,” he says, and the sarcasm in his tone is more than a little obvious.

She doesn’t trust her knees not to give out on her if she gets up in that moment. She’s feeling so many emotions at once that she’s rendered almost paralyzed by the intensity. Anger, disappointment, sorrow, shame, regret, confusion. She doesn’t even know if she has the right to feel so hurt, but still, it’s how she feels.

“Fine,” he says, after she hasn’t moved for some time. “I’ll go.”

She swallows, the tightening of her throat a tell-tale sign that she may finally be powerless to keep from crying after so long. She will not do it. She will not cry over this. He slaps the arms of his chair as he gets up and she startles, shrinking a bit in her chair. Even his shadow in the lamplight feels overbearing to her right now.

“Do you really think I feel that this is a farce?” he asks. “If it was only about the land, I would’ve paid off the option as soon as we were married. I left the mortgage as it is because I thought you would enjoy the responsibility of it. Surely you realize it makes no difference in the end whether you make those payments or if I do if the money is coming from the same place.” 

He pauses and then puts his hand on his hips and kicks angrily at the floor with the toe of his boot. “Dammit, Kate,” he says. “I bought you a ring. And you want to try to tell me I’m not taking this seriously? Or...or to imply that I don’t value or respect your opinion somehow? I don’t know how this conversation took such a turn, I truly don’t.”

She doesn’t know how it is, but words seem to hurt just as much as slaps. Her gut clenches and her hands curl into defensive fists as though she were about to fight off the blows. Her knees feel even weaker now than a few minutes prior.

Without another word, Mulder turns and goes back inside the house. It takes her a good ten minutes to be able to stand and go to her room. Her arms are still shaking and she has to hug the magazine tight and carry the lamp with both hands, very slowly. The door to Mulder’s room is closed and she shuts hers quietly as well and then curls up on her bed. She shivers and pulls her shawl tight around her like a blanket.


	14. The Accident

Sleep eludes him. He’s up most of the night punching his pillows as though they’re to blame for his insomnia or he’s pacing around his room. Several times he opens his door and stares at Katherine’s room, wondering if he should knock and apologize or burst in unannounced and demand an explanation.

It’s not quite dawn when he finally gets dressed and hitches a couple horses to the wagon, grabs an axe, and drives over to the wooded area along the creek. He’s chopping away as the sun rises, already dripping sweat when he hears the faint cry of the rooster in the distance. He can smell the smoke from the cookstove from where he is.

After two trees have fallen, he needs to take a break to drink some water and have a bit of the jerky and biscuits he’s brought with him for breakfast. When he sees Melvin riding out towards him a bit later, he takes a final dipper of water from the bucket he filled before he left and picks up the axe again.

“Them trees aggravatin’ you this morning, or what?” Melvin asks, dismounting from Faithful Jenny and leading her over beside the wagon.

“We’ll need them for the new corral,” he answers, never taking a break in his swings. “Thought I’d get a head start.”

“You want some help on it?”

“Nope.”

“You know I’m not aimin’ to get in the middle of things-”

“Then, don’t,” Mulder interrupts. He stops chopping at the tree he’s on and gives it a firm kick. The bottom tilts and cracks at a sharp angle, but doesn’t quite break. He kicks it again, but it doesn’t budge this time. So, he kicks it again. And again. And once more.

Mulder stops and drops the axe. He bends over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. He takes one glove off and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket which he uses to wipe his brow. It’s one that Katherine has monogrammed for him with her pretty little stitches. She gave it to him only a few days after settling in, telling him it wasn’t much, but it was something she could do to express her gratitude.

“What’d she tell you?” Mulder asks.

“Katherine? She didn’t tell me nothin’, though it’s not hard to tell she’s upset by something. And with you here hackin’ away at them trees, it don’t make it less obvious.”

“I’ve seen to it that she doesn’t want for anything, you know. I...I took her away from that godforesaken sod house, I gave her clothes and a room and a job to do and...and I’ve been kind, haven’t I?”

“Sure you have.”

“We were having a perfectly pleasant conversation on the porch last night and suddenly it just went all sideways and then she’s throwing around accusations like I think our marriage is a farce.”

“She said that?”

“Amongst other things, yes she did.”

“Well, I guess that is reason enough to come out here and take your frustrations out on them trees.”

“What else should I be doing? Talking in circles with my fictitious bride so she can hurl more baseless accusations at me?”

“If they’re baseless, why are you in such a tizzy?”

“Because they’re obviously not baseless to her, otherwise why else would she say that?”

“Hm.” Melvin strokes his beard into a point at his chin. “Womenfolk sure are complicated, that’s for sure.”

“You can say that again.”

“Did you ask her how she come by that notion about the marriage, or did you forget how to articulate?”

“Of course I asked her and all I got was some vague implication that I was somehow disrespecting her by hiring a surveyor to come out and make plans on the expansion. It’s not like she wasn’t aware that was the plan all along. You’d have thought it was a total surprise, the way she reacted.”

“When I was gettin’ hitched to Eliza, my Mama told me that the best advice she could give anyone startin’ out was not to let the sun go down on your anger.”

Mulder picks up his axe again and shakes his head. “Little late for that,” he says, choosing his next tree to fell. “The sun was already down anyhow.”

“You know you can be a real horse’s behind sometimes.”

“I am aware.” Mulder starts chopping again, swinging the axe at a cedar sapling.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be then.” Melvin hoists himself up into the saddle on Faithful Jenny’s back and turns the horse to home. He stops and turns back, passing the wagon so he’s closer to where Mulder is chopping, but still at a safe distance. “If’n you aim to prove her wrong about your marriage, it may be best not to let her stay in her misery for too long.”

“She has nothing to be miserable about. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well, apologies don’t have to mean you were wrong, they could just mean you’re sorry for the hurtin’. You’re forgettin’ already what she’s been through.”

“I have not forgotten.” Mulder shoulders his axe and glares at Melvin. “Should I expect you’ll be taking her side of things from now on?”

“I’m not takin’ any sides. Just remindin’ you that you’re the one brung her here.”

“And that means I need to shoulder the blame for every argument we have from here to kingdom come?”

“Tarnation you must have about the thickest skull in the entire state of Texas. No, it doesn’t mean you’re to blame for everything, it just means that you’re the one that’s plum fool enough to marry a lady you don’t hardly know from Adam except she’s been dealt a sorry hand and then you want to go get all high and mighty about what you done like you deserve a dadgum medal of honor. Either you wanted to help her because of the goodness in your heart or you wanted a nice pat on the back. Which is it?”

“I wasn’t looking for any commendations.”

“Well, good, ‘cause folks might get an idea then of your marriage bein’ a farce or somethin’ like it.”

Melvin turns Faithful Jenny away from Mulder and clicks at her to ride away. Mulder scowls at his back. He doesn’t know why he’s being treated so harshly and unfairly all of a sudden. He’s turned his conversation with Katherine over and over again in his mind and he can’t find the logic in her being so upset. The only thing he knows is that he will clear this whole damned creek of trees before he apologizes for something when he doesn’t even know what he’s done wrong.

↭

When Mulder doesn’t come to breakfast, Katherine feels almost sick about it. She doesn’t eat, just serves the boys their meal and pretends she has too much to do to sit down that morning. She’s sure they won’t notice anyhow, they’re always distracted with planning for the day most of the time. They don’t even seem to be concerned that Mulder isn’t there. Melvin is the only one that looks at her like he knows something isn’t quite right.

When Mulder doesn’t come to noon dinner, Katherine feels a bit exasperated. She knows by then that he’s been by the creek all morning taking down trees. While she once preferred her late husband’s habit of disappearing for long lengths of time after an argument, she can’t say it feels the same to have Mulder do the same.

She’s so lost in her own thoughts that it takes her some time to realize that Melvin is washing up the dinner dishes. She jumps up from the table, mortified to have let that happen. Melvin waves her away.

“Go on, finish your dinner,” he says. “You didn’t hardly eat your breakfast, if at all. Let me do this. You can dry if’n you want.”

“I guess I’m just not very hungry today,” she answers.

“Well, I suppose I don’t got much of an appetite either when I got things weighin’ on my mind.”

She worries the wedding ring on her finger. It hasn’t escaped her that this has already become a nervous habit so quickly. To make better use of her hands, she grabs a dishrag and starts drying what Melvin has washed.

“We argued last night,” she says. “I suppose Mulder told you that?”

“He mentioned there was a disagreement of some kind. You may have already figured this out for yourself, but he can be as stubborn as an old goat sometimes.”

“Does he always do this? Avoid problems this way?”

“I haven’t known him to, but then again horse problems and lady problems aren’t really the same.”

“Should I bring dinner down to him, do you think?”

“I think he might appreciate that. If’n you think he’s stewed long enough with his thoughts.”

“I don’t know about him, but I think I’ve stewed long enough with mine.”

“Then you go ahead and do what you think is right.”

“I’ll pack something up right now.”

“Leave that dishrag with me so’s I can finish up here.”

Katherine drapes the dishrag over Melvin’s shoulder and starts to pack up some dinner to take to Mulder. She’s wrapping biscuits when there’s whistling and hollering outside. Melvin looks up and peers out of the small, square window above the wash basin.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Lord almighty,” he mutters, flinging water and soap suds from his hands as he turns and rushes to the door.

“Another panther?” she asks, following at his heels. “Should I get the gun?”

“Looks like there’s been an accident.”

“An accident?”

Katherine is out the door faster than Melvin, lifting her skirts as she runs across the ranch to where the men are shouting and the horses and wagon that Mulder had taken down to the creek are standing. 

“What is it!?” she shouts. “What happened!?”

“He come rolling up just now and keeled over,” Jimmy says. “Felled right off the wagon.”

Katherine drops to her knees in the dirt where Mulder lays and immediately begins assessing his condition. His face is sunburnt, his skin is dry, his pulse is racing. She runs her hands over his head and finds a bit of a lump at the left side, but he’s not bleeding. His left shoulder is twisted under him at an unnatural angle. She looks up at the men standing over them.

“Should I run and fetch the doc?” Jimmy asks.

“His shoulder looks to be dislocated,” she says. “Which I can set back into place. And I believe he is suffering sunstroke.” She makes some quick determinations in her head about who can help best in what areas. “Melvin, go and fetch the doctor. Trevor, I’d like you to go in and start pumping water into the washtub. No need to light the furnace, we need it to be cool.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Trevor answers and runs off.

“Richard, can you find me some clean rags? Tear up some of the bedding I just washed if you have to.”

The other men leave quickly and it’s just Jesse, squatting low at Mulder’s feet and Jimmy hovering over her.

“I need you two to help me turn him onto his back,” she says, getting to her feet and kneeling again at Mulder’s left side. “Gently.”

Katherine holds onto Mulder’s shoulder and elbow to keep his arm in place as the men slowly roll Mulder onto his back. He groans softly and coughs once.

“Jimmy, you go down by his feet and just hold his ankles steady. I think he may already be in shock, but this still may hurt a bit and he might fight against the pain, but it’s best he be still.”

“What’re you gonna do to him?” Jesse asks.

“I’m going to be pulling the shoulder back into place, as gently as I can. Will you please hold him steady with a hand on his chest and right shoulder?”

When Jesse and Jimmy have their hold on Mulder, Katherine takes a deep breath and then starts to slowly draw Mulder’s arm up in an arc away from his side. As she pulls it up, she also pumps it softly until she’s reached a straight angle and she stops and looks from one brother to the other.

“Keep hold now,” she says. They nod their reply.

Katherine raises Mulder’s arm up, making small circles as she lifts from his wrist. Mulder groans again and he tries to kick his feet, but Jimmy holds steady. 

“You’re alright,” Katherine says to Mulder, still drawing his arm up. “You’ll feel better in just a bit.”

Only moments later, Katherine feels the shoulder slide back into place and she lowers Mulder’s arm while cupping his elbow, bringing his forearm to rest across his belly. She feels his pulse again at his neck and shakes her head. It’s way too fast. His lips are chapped and white.

“Will you two be able to carry him in if we get him on a sheet?”

“I reckon we sure could,” Jesse says.

“Don’t move him until I come back.”

Katherine races to the house. She finds Richard at the linen cabinet in the dogtrot, ripping up pillow cases. She grabs one of the sheets and runs back to Mulder. When they have the sheet laid out the two men, under Katherine’s instruction, move Mulder onto it with as little jostling as possible. They lift from the sides per her direction and move swiftly to the house.

The wash room is not a large room, certainly not large enough to hold five people comfortably, especially when one of them is incapacited. She sends Trevor off to fetch her a glass of water with some salt in it and has Jesse and Jimmy lay out Mulder on the floor and then step away.

Quickly, and with nimble fingers, Katherine first unbuttons the suspenders on Mulder’s trousers. She then opens up all the buttons on his trousers and moves down to pull his boots and socks off. She pulls his trousers off and then calls out to Trevor to bring her the scissors from her sewing kit. When she has the scissors, she cuts Mulder’s shirt in half up from belly to chest so she can pull his right arm free and not have to move the left too much. With the remains of the shirt, she fashions a sling to hold his left arm.

She leaves his undershirt and drawers in place and then has Jesse and Jimmy lift him, sheet and all, into the washtub. The water doesn’t quite cover him so she pumps a bit more into the tub. Richard brings her the rags and Trevor brings her the cup of water and the salt tin.

“I just put a pinch of salt in,” Trevor says. “I don’t know if that was enough.”

“Thank you, that’s just fine. Will you do me one more favor and get me a spoon and one of the ash buckets? Just be sure it’s empty.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Trevor races out of the room.

Katherine kneels beside the tub and begins to dip the rags into the water and place them behind Mulder’s neck and on his forehead. She dabs his cheeks and jaw. Trevor returns with the spoon and the bucket. Jesse brings her a stool to sit on so she doesn’t have to kneel.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asks.

“Not at the moment. I’ll call for you when it’s time to get him out.”

“Alright, we’ll stay close by.”

“Thank you.”

Jesse closes the door behind him and she sits with Mulder, alternating soaking rags and patting his neck and face and spooning him salted water. His eyes slide open after a bit and roll around. His pupils are two different sizes, which worries her, and his gaze is a little disoriented.

“Mulder?”

“Where’m I?” he mumbles.

“You’re in the bathing tub. I think you may have had sunstroke and you fell from the wagon. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” She holds up three fingers and he blinks and stares at her hand.

“Three?”

“That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Cold. My arm aches.” He reaches up with his right hand to try to touch his shoulder, but she catches his hand and holds it.

“You dislocated your shoulder, but it’s fine now. It’ll probably be sore for a few days.”

“I did?”

“I need you to drink a little water, can you do that?”

“Okay.”

Katherine lets go of Mulder’s hand and brings the cup to Mulder’s mouth. She holds the back of his neck to help him sip, but won’t let him take much yet.

“I’m so thirsty,” he says, trying to bring his lips back to the cup.

“I know, you just need to drink slowly otherwise it might make you sick.”

He finishes the cup of water, slowly, with her help. She puts the back of her hand to his cheek and then dabs at his face again with a soaked rag. He lays passively for some time, almost like he’s dreaming, but then he starts to shift and seems to gain more awareness bit by bit.

“You know, if you wanted me in my underthings, all you had to do was ask,” he says suddenly, smiling a little and turning his head towards her.

“I think we can get you out of the tub now.” 


	15. Recovery

He’s never felt so lightheaded in his life, but heavy at the same time. His shoulder is sore. He’s both hot and cold. Just a few moments ago, Katherine told him she would be right back and under no circumstances to move from where he lays in the bathing tub.

When Katherine returns, she brings Jimmy and Jesse with her. The two men stand awkwardly in the doorway, averting their eyes and clearing their throats. Katherine is no-nonsense with them, ordering them to assist Mulder in standing, mind his injured arm, and make sure he does not fall.

“If you feel too weak, like you’re going to faint, or that you can’t walk, you say something,” she tells Mulder.

He already feels weak, but he’s too embarrassed being helped to his feet in his own bathing tub by his ranch hands. They get him up and out of the tub and then Mulder does have to pause for a moment. He feels momentarily dizzy and a bit nauseated, but it passes and they can continue out of the washroom into the hallway.

Mulder is soaking wet, dripping water everywhere from head to toe. He looks apologetically at the floor and at Katherine.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’ll mop up later.”

While Jesse and Jimmy are helping him into his room, Katherine gathers all the towels she can find. She lays two towels out at the edge of the bed and has the men sit Mulder on them.

“Thank you gentlemen, I’ll take it from here.”

The brothers look relieved to be dismissed. They scurry out of the room and Katherine starts by draping a towel around Mulder’s shoulders. She manages to get him out of the right arm of his undershirt and then removes the sling to complete the job.

“Hold still just for a few moments,” she says. She stretches the collar out and pulls the shirt over his head and then off his arm without too much disturbance. She has a dry, torn up pillowcase on hand to fashion a new sling and then she pats his chest dry.

When she starts to dry his back, she leans into him and cups the back of his head with one hand. He sighs, his face so close to her breast that he’s nearly resting his cheek against her. Her hands are gentle and soothing. They make him feel sleepy.

“I’m going to lay you back now,” she says.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

She embraces him from his right side, one arm around his shoulders and the other across his middle. She draws his head to her shoulder and then brings him down onto his side. She slides away then, but holds the back of his neck as she pulls his legs up onto the bed. She makes sure he has a pillow underneath his head and then she places her hand gently onto his shoulder.

“Close your eyes,” she says.

“Close my eyes?”

“Not for long.”

“Alright.” He’s confused, but closes his eyes. When he feels her fingers brush his abdomen and unbutton his drawers, he thinks she must be the most caring person he’s ever met, the way she was able to anticipate any possible discomfort for either of them. She drapes a towel over his abdomen and upper legs and somehow manages to remove his soaked drawers from underneath it. Her fingertips graze the outside of his thighs and he knows it’s a very good thing he’s feeling so lousy and weak because the tingle he feels in his pelvis isn’t quite strong enough to cause any embarrassment, even though it should.

“You can open them now,” she says.

He opens his eyes to the ceiling for a few moments, but then watches her as she dries his legs and feet, noting just how methodical and efficiently she works. Melvin had given him that same observation, but he hadn’t truly seen it in action before. She’s also the most confident and commanding he’s ever known her to be before with the way she directed the boys, and him.

“Kate,” he says.

“I’m going to get some fresh underthings for you and hopefully the doctor will be here soon.”

“Doctor?”

“Melvin rode out to fetch him.”

“Oh.”

Katherine putters around his room, picking up wet towels and clothes and taking them away. She opens up his wardrobe and rummages through his underthings before taking out a pair of drawstring drawers. She dresses him as smoothly as she undressed him. For some reason it’s more embarrassing for her to be putting him into fresh drawers than it was for her to take them off.

“Kate, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry all this happened,” he says as she removes the towel from his hips. “I mean, I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to apologize for the way I behaved last night. That was only last night, wasn’t it? I haven’t lost some days I’m not aware of?”

He smiles to let her know he’s not being serious, but she drops her head and folds the towel over her arm. The sound of horse hooves outside prompts her to move and she goes to the window and looks outside.

“Looks like the doc is here,” she says. “We can talk about that later and I’d like you to know I’m sorry as well.”

“You don’t have anything to apolo-”

“Katherine?” Melvin calls from the door.

Katherine goes to the bedroom door and opens it. The doctor rushes in with his bag, removing his hat and nodding at Katherine as he comes through. Mulder has met the doctor a handful of times and has found him to be a decent man. Melvin stays in the hall, but paces by the door.

“Ma’am, you must be Mr. Mulder’s wife,” the doctor says.

“Katherine.”

“Doctor Black. I understand Mr. Mulder has taken a fall?”

“Yes, I believe he fell from his wagon after suffering sunstroke. His shoulder was dislocated from the fall, but I was able to reset it. We got him into a cool tub and I gave him salted water to rehydrate. When he regained consciousness I observed that his pupils were of two different sizes indicating a possible concussion. There is a small hematoma at the left side of the head, above the ear.”

“I see.” The doctor nods and sets his bag down at the foot of the bed and opens it. He removes his black jacket and rolls up his sleeves. “How long was Mr. Mulder unconscious for?”

“Approximately ten to fifteen minutes.”

“Any vomiting or altered speech?”

“No, Sir.”

“Headache?”

“No complaints thus far.”

“Very good. Let’s have a look then, shall we?”

The doctor sits at the side of the bed and begins to prod Mulder about the ribs and then the shoulder. He’s less gentle than Katherine and he winces a few times under his ministrations. He asks a few questions of Mulder and checks the sling. Katherine watches the doctor’s every move, staying behind him and to the side, but close. The doctor makes little murmuring noises to himself as he works.

“How might you have come to be so knowledgeable about patient assessment and treatment?” Doctor Black asks, turning to look over his shoulder at Katherine.

“I had a year of nurse’s training, Sir.”

“Mmhm. Well, they did a fine job with your training.”

Mulder is surprised to learn this piece of information, but not shocked. Her handling of him during this time was impressive enough, but to learn she’s had a year of training along with it, it means her skill also comes with knowledge. 

“Tell me,” the doctor says, standing and rolling his sleeves back down. “What would you suggest as treatment at this stage?”

Katherine doesn’t falter or hesitate. “I’ll be making a bone broth shortly that I believe he should take for at least the next three days. A liniment for the shoulder, preferably of camphor, to alleviate any soreness. Aside from that, rest and limited use of the arm for the time-being.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Mulder asks.

“Have you had nurse’s training as well?” Doctor Black asks.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re not qualified.” The doctor takes a tin of liniment from his bag and gives it to Katherine. “Rub this into the shoulder every few hours or as necessary. Plenty of rest and limited use of the arm for the next week. If he misbehaves, make it two.”

“Hey, now,” Mulder says.

The doctor chuckles as he puts his hat on and closes up his bag. “Mrs. Mulder, the next time you’re in town I hope you’ll stop by my office. Don’t be surprised if I put you to work though.”

“Oh, I never finished school, Doctor Black.”

“You learn more by doing than you do from a book. Mr. Mulder, you listen to your wife.”

“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” Mulder answers.

“Could I get you a cup of coffee before you go?” Katherine asks.

“I would appreciate that very much, thank you.”

Katherine tucks the sheet over Mulder’s chest. “I’ll be back with some tea for you soon.”

Unconsciously, Mulder pouts his lips. He feels a bit envious of the good doctor that he can share something with Katherine that he can’t. He also doesn’t want to be left alone. Katherine escorts the doctor out of the room, but Melvin slinks in after they leave and stands over the bed.

“I guess it’s a good thing you got yourself such a thick skull,” Melvin says.

“I always knew it would come in handy one day.”

“You got yourself a good woman, you know that?”

“It has occurred to me, yes.”

Melvin grunts. “Best try harder not to muck it up.”

↭

Her experience in nursing school probably could have put her off of doctors for good, but she still finds herself in awe of their profession. She knows that not all doctors are bad, just one in particular. Doctor Black seems kind to her. He compliments her coffee and asks about her experience with genuine interest. He tells her a little about his background and then he thanks her for the hospitality, but he has to go. She walks him to his carriage.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he tells her. “I could always use an extra pair of hands if ever you’re available. I know how ranch life is though and you probably have more than enough to handle here.”

“I would like that very much, but you’re right. My duties here keep me busy.”

“I know a fine nurse when I see one though.”

“I actually wanted to be a doctor.” She surprises herself when she blurts this out. She’s only told one person in her life of that long-ago aspiration.

“Well, it’s a pity then you gave it up.”

“You don’t think it was just wishful thinking on my part?”

“A few decades ago I may have said yes. I’m sure you’ve heard of Miss Elizabeth Blackwell though.”

“Of course. I don’t think I would have even entertained the thought if not for a woman like her.”

“I’ve had the good fortune to meet her and I will admit that she helped to alter my perceptions a great deal.”

“You are in the minority, Sir.”

Doctor Black nods, but scoffs. “When I started practicing, I was performing surgeries without anesthetic, and now chloroform’s as common as a housefly. Five years ago we thought morphine was a cure-all until we learned there can be some dire consequences associated with the drug. Medicine changes and so do times.”

“Thank you for coming out today, Doctor Black.”

“It’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mrs. Mulder.”

Katherine returns to the kitchen to start a bone broth to boil and get the tea she promised Mulder. She’s feeling lighter now, despite the day's events. 

“Don’t get up,” Katherine says to Mulder when he moves to sit up as she comes through the door.

“I thought you’d never come back,” he answers. “Thought maybe I lost you to the good doctor.”

“I have to restore you to good health first.”

She knows he likes it when she teases him and sure enough, he smiles. She helps him to sit up and arranges the pillows behind him so he can lean against the bedrail. When he’s settled she sits down beside him.

“Let’s get some of this liniment on your shoulder,” she says.

He makes a face when she opens the tin. The camphor smell is strong. She removes the sling and holds his forearm with one hand as she rubs the liniment into his shoulder with the other. She’s never seen him shirtless before or touched more than his hands or face. His skin is softer than she expected it to be. The hair on his chest is thin and sparse, far different from her former husband who resembled a bear more than a man.

Katherine shakes her head a little to clear her thoughts and then looks up at Mulder. He’s watching her with a half-smile on his lips like he’s been reading her thoughts. She averts her eyes and kneads a little deeper with the liniment. He grunts softly and then sighs.

“Nurse’s training?” he asks. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

“It was a long time ago. I guess it was never really relevant to any of our conversations.”

“Why didn’t you finish?”

“I married Jack.” It’s the truth, but not the whole truth. It’s as much as she’s willing to give him at this moment, though.

Katherine puts the cap back on the tin and puts the sling back into place. She gives Mulder the tea and stands, wiping her hands clean on one of the rags left behind.

“I need to check on the broth and start cleaning things up,” she says.

“Wait.” Mulder puts the tea down onto his bedside table. “I don’t want to let this linger any more than it has.”

Katherine sits down again with a sigh and she nods. 

“I need you to tell me what had you so upset,” he says. “I thought I was clear with my intentions for the land and unless you’re also hiding a degree in architecture or engineering and were planning to do the surveying yourself, I truly can’t work out what I said or did to cause such discord.”

“I suppose the fault in that is mine.” She covers her right hand with her left in her lap to prevent herself from nervously twisting her ring. “Initially when you said you had hired a surveyor, I assumed all the plans had been made and I felt excluded.”

“I told you you would be a part of the planning though, didn’t I?”

“I’m not really accustomed to men keeping their word.” She bows her head slightly in contrition. “And I know that’s unfair because you have kept your word to me about everything you said you would do. And everything you said you wouldn’t do.”

“I have tried.”

“But, last night you said I would be involved, to an extent. It was the qualifier that really upset me. To an extent.”

“I only meant-”

“No, I think I know what you meant,” she interrupts. “After staying up half the night stewing over it, I realize that you only meant that there are obviously going to be certain things I won’t have a say in. The horses, for example. Your new corral, the stables.”

Mulder nods.

“I have gone from being allowed to have an opinion about nothing to being asked how I think and how I feel and I am trying to trust it’s not all just some cruel joke God is playing on me.”

“I don’t believe he would do such a thing. Not to you.”

“Yes, well. You have no idea what He’s already handed down to me.”

“Kate…”

“I need to go clean up.”

She moves to stand, but Mulder puts his hand over hers. She doesn’t flinch this time or pull away. He rubs his thumbs over her knuckles for a bit and then he moves his hand to her face. She tips her head into his hand without a second thought and nothing has ever felt as right as his hand on her cheek.

“You have to come to me,” he says. “I can’t come to you.”

“Hm?”

He slides his hand to the back of her head and presses gently at her neck. She leans closer to him and puts her hand on his chest as she kisses him. She feels him smile before he brings his hand to her shoulder and then down her arm. She rests her forehead against his with her eyes closed.

“Will you read to me when you come back?” he asks. “I’ve been thinking about how the animals got their colors all day and I don’t think I can go another night without knowing.”

She laughs and then kisses him again.


	16. Ruminations

Mulder learns quite quickly what a strict nursemaid Katherine makes and just how much he can get away with before the eyebrow lifts and the arms cross. He’s restless by the next day and his shoulder is only a little bit sore, so he doesn’t understand why she keeps him in his bed, but she will not relent. She gives him a bit more freedom the following few days, but only to go to and from the washroom or kitchen. 

One good thing to come of the enforced bed rest is that he gets a chance to get to know her even more as she’s forced to spend most of her time just trying to keep him still. He finds some subtle ways to get her to reveal personal information that he stores for future reference. Magnolia flowers are her favorite, for example, because there was a magnolia tree outside her house, growing up. She had a schoolteacher that got her interested in sciences when a friend of theirs came in to demonstrate a microscope for the classroom one day. She has fond memories of sailing with her father as a child, but that’s as much as she will say about her family.

When he’s given the all clear to go ahead and return to the horses, it’s with the sternest of warnings not to overtax himself, or his shoulder. She even goes so far as to make Jimmy and Jesse solemnly swear to tattle on him if he tries to do any heavy lifting for at least another week. Much to his chagrin, they keep him in line. He only has to be on the receiving end of one lecture to know she means business when she says not to overdo it. 

Another good thing that actually comes out of his injury is the nightly massages that he becomes far too accustomed to, too quickly. To keep from embarrassing himself at the way it makes him feel to have her touch him, he has to lay face-down on the bed to let her work the liniment into his sore muscles. Initially, he feels a bit ashamed of himself that something so simple as her touch can arouse him in such a way, but she is his wife and he thinks that it should be natural to be aroused by the woman he’s married to. He’s read about carnal desires before and his aunt had been a little too thorough when she explained the facts of life to him one day, the experience of which he can recall with mortifying clarity and detail. But, he’s never been intimate with a woman before aside from kisses he shared with Diana. And he never felt the way he feels with Katherine when he kissed Diana. 

Speaking of kissing, that’s the one other pleasant thing to come out of the whole debacle that he’s the most grateful for. Every night since his injury, Katherine kisses him goodnight. Sometimes it might be on the cheek or just a quick peck on the lips, but he enjoys it. Other times, she leaves with her lips swollen and wet and her eyes glassy. He can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face every time and she shakes her head as though it’s ridiculous that he’s so delighted by it, but she’s smiling when she does it.

↭

Katherine wonders if God has ever created a more stubborn man than William Mulder. She’s had to chase him back to bed many times over the first few days that he was supposed to convalesce and his antics made her derelict in her duties. She threatened him once with having Melvin come in and take over as nursemaid just so she could get some washing done and he stayed put after that.

At his request, she reads to him from her magazines, and he interrupts with so many questions and arguments that what would start out as a simple recitation would often turn into a full debate within minutes. She also learns that there is a difference between argument and debate. Every debate with Mulder usually leaves her feeling alive and laughing. She learns that the articles that piques his interest the most, and keeps him from arguing with her, are ones about creatures of some sort. He finds one story of fish that can walk on land and climb trees most engaging and another analyzing the scientific merit of old adages using animals to predict the weather to be ‘utterly fascinating.’

As exasperating as he can be, she still finds him more and more endearing as the days pass. When he looks at her, it’s in the cow-eyed way usually reserved for the young and in love. God help her, but she enjoys it. She starts kissing him good night just to see that twist of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes and because she likes that it gives her a fluttery feeling in her stomach and a heavy, liquid feeling deep in her pelvis just from touching her mouth to his.

She’s aware that he might want more from her, but he hasn’t asked. When she gives him his nightly massage, she can’t help but notice the way his breathing changes and the way his hips shift as though he’s uncomfortable. She tries to be quick and she tries to be clinical, but touching him just feels different than a patient she may have treated in nurse’s training. She wants to touch him and she wants to explore him and maybe it’s wrong to want it, but he is her husband after all and surely that should make it okay. She’s read about such love in novels, where both women and men desire each other, but her upbringing dictated that sins of the flesh were reserved exclusively for men and any woman that lusted for a man was to be considered depraved. Based on her personal experience, she never would have thought she was capable of lust or love. Until now.


	17. A Visit to Town

November approaches quickly. The surveyor is due to arrive in only a handful of weeks. The horses are coming along just fine with their training. Mulder’s relationship with Katherine feels like it’s moving forward at a pleasant pace. Just before the last weekend of the month, he asks her if he might accompany her into town that Friday.

“Of course,” she says. “But, you don’t need to ask.”

“You might have plans with your friends and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I would like to call on Susannah and Monica and Doctor Black, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome to join me.”

“Then, I will accept your invitation.”

“My invitation? You invited yourself.”

“Did I?”

Probably the only thing he finds more delightful than when she raises her eyebrow at him is when she rolls her eyes at him.

He asks if she’d like to attempt to drive the wagon into town, but she declines. She feels that she’s only just mastered the carriage and has not had any wagon lessons yet. She’s more than happy to have him drive them.

Their first stop is the mercantile. Susannah rushes out to greet them and pulls Katherine inside by looping her arm through hers.

“We’ve got the prettiest new fabric in that will suit you so well,” she says. “I’ve been hoping you’d come by and held it just for you.”

“John,” Mulder greets, as he enters the store.

“Mulder, what timing. The denim trousers you ordered arrived just this week.”

“Thank you, I’ll take them now if you’ll wrap them.”

“Already done.”

“Katherine has our supply list, but it looks like your wife has absconded with her.”

“Yes, she’s been waiting for her to come in.”

“I’ll just take a look at the catalog in the meantime, I may have a few other things to order.”

“Certainly.” John slides the thick book of merchandise across the counter to Mulder. “We saw Melvin ride through town a few weeks ago and take Doctor Black back with him to the ranch. Heard you had taken a tumble from a wagon.”

“Just a little shoulder damage. That does remind me, if you have any liniment, I’ll take a couple tins off you.”

“We’ve got Sloan’s. The oil.”

“That’s fine, two bottles. No, make it three. I’ll bring one to the Doc.”

“He said Katherine patched you right up and did about as good of job with it as he would’ve done.”

“I guess if I had to compare the two, I much prefer the bedside manner of my wife.”

Mulder chuckles as John blushes and fumbles with the bottles of liniment. He’s saved from any further conversation of his shoulder when Katherine appears with Susannah and some bolts of cotton fabric with a blue paisley pattern.

“Kate, you have our list?” Mulder asks.

“Oh, yes.” She opens the little drawstring bag at her wrist and gives John the paper.

“Now that Katherine’s taken over from Melvin, you don’t have to translate his hieroglyphics any longer.”

“Yes, lovely handwriting.” John nods and then starts to collect items from the list, all business.

“I was just needling your wife about that Sunday dinner get-together we promised,” Susannah says. “You be sure not to keep her so busy she can’t do some proper visiting.”

“She is more than free to ride out at any time to come calling, but it has been a bit hectic lately.”

“Oh, we heard about your fall. Doctor Black said Katherine did all the doctoring for him and he didn’t lift a finger.”

“It was a mild concussion and a shoulder dislocation,” Katherine explains. “Just required a re-set of the shoulder and a good deal of rest.”

“John, put in for five of these undershirts here on page 67. Kate, is there anything you might want from Montgomery Ward?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take a gander and put in for whatever you find with John. I’m going to head across the way to the lumber mill just for a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

Mulder leaves Katherine at the mercantile and goes across the road to the mill. It’s a noisy place with a lot of sawing and yelling and hammering. The smell of sawdust is everywhere. The air is thick with it and Mulder can swear he feels it clinging to him as soon as he gets within five feet of the place.

“Mr. Hartwell,” he shouts, waving his hat to get the foreman’s attention.

Mr. Hartwell leaves the saw he’s working with stuck in the lumber he’s cutting and takes his gloves off to shake hands. “Mr. Mulder, good to see you,” he says.

“I’m soon to be in need of some lumber.”

“Oh?”

“I took over Old Man Goodwin’s plot and I’ve got a surveyor coming out a little more than a week from now. He’s supposed to get me some plans for a bigger barn, new stables, and we’ll be doing a new bunkhouse and expanding the house eventually.”

“Is that right? When might you be needing your order?”

“I hope to break ground by winter. At least on the corral. I’ve been clearing trees on the property and we can recycle some of what we’ve already got. You still have a record on the build on my current plot?”

“I reckon so.”

“Let’s start with that same amount. I’m about to run down to the bank. I’ll tell Mr. Skinner you’ll be giving him an estimate and he can advance anything you need and I’ll take what I can get by let’s say, mid-December?”

“Well alright then.” Mr. Hartwell nods. 

“I’ll also be in the market to hire labor, so if you have anyone in mind you can point my way, I’d be most grateful.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you.”

The two men shake hands again and Mulder heads back to the mercantile. John Jr. is loading up the wagon with their purchases. He gives Mulder a wave.

“How are things with your sweetheart?” Mulder asks, helping to load the last of the crates from the porch.

John Jr. sighs. “She broke off with me a couple weeks ago.”

“Well, now, that’s a shame.”

“She said I was boring and then the next day she was holding hands with Luke Doggett.”

“That the Sheriff’s boy?”

“Yes, Sir. I can’t even be mad over it because Luke’s a nice guy.”

“Be patient. You’re a hard worker and you’re not boring at all, you’re stable, like your father. You’ll find a great girl one day that’ll appreciate that.”

“Naw, I think I’m done with girls for awhile. I’m gonna save up and get a horse.”

“Well, horses are good too. When you’re ready to buy, you come see me. I’ll give you a good deal.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mulder chuckles to himself as he walks away from John Jr. and goes back into the mercantile. Katherine gives him a smile that makes him want to wrap his arms around her. He puts his hand at the small of her back instead.

“Ready?” he asks.

Katherine and Susannah say their goodbyes. Mulder helps his wife up into the wagon seat and then they head to the bank. He leaves Katherine at the line to the teller’s window and waves to Skinner who motions him into the office.

“I wanted to let you know that we’re moving forward on the expansion,” Mulder tells him. “Mr. Hartwell should be coming by with an estimate for lumber. I told him to speak with you and you’d arrange to advance him anything he might need.”

“I can do that.”

“I also, uh…” Mulder turns his hat over in his hands for a few moments and then he glances out into the foyer of the bank before he shuts the door to Skinner’s office for a bit of privacy. “If you can get word to my lawyers through the branch in Fort Worth that I’d like to update my will, I would appreciate it.”

“Certainly, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure I’ll need an update of my account holdings, so whatever they need they can have time to put it together.”

“What brought this on, if I may ask?”

“Had a fall from a wagon a few weeks ago. Nothing drastic, mind you, it just got me thinking and I’d like to make sure that if...well, if anything should happen, there’s no question of what my wishes are.”

“Your wife would be protected, by law.”

“Not well enough. I want to make damn sure the ranch will stay with her, and I want to make sure Melvin will be taken care of as well.”

“I’ll get word and if anything comes back from your lawyers, I will let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“Does she even know? Who she really married? How much you’re worth?”

“No.”

“You might want to tell her sometime.”

“When the time is right.”

↭

Katherine feels more confident this time when she pays the mortgage. The teller is polite, calls her Mrs. Mulder, slides the card to her that she needs to sign with a fountain pen and she doesn’t hesitate this time to write Katherine Mulder next to the date.

She’s finished before Mulder is done speaking with Mr. Skinner, so she waits for him outside by the wagon. She’s never really gotten a good look at the town before. The row of businesses stretches long and wide. If the bank is the end point, the mercantile is the start. In between there’s a sawmill, a blacksmith, the saloon, an icehouse, a cafe, a flour mill, a bath house, a meeting house, the sheriff’s office, a barber, a boarding house, a livery, a laundry, and the house of ill repute, as Mulder referred to it.

She knows there’s a church somewhere and a school, but they must be hidden in the outskirts of the town. Doctor Black must have his practice somewhere off the main road as well. Monica had said she lives off the road that veers left from the bank and she wonders how many other homes are out there and where everyone lives. The Byers may make their home as part of their store, but presumably Mr. Skinner does not sleep in the bank. And she remembers that Susannah said he had a wife.

Mulder comes outside and stands next to her. “When I first got here about the only things that existed were the mercantile and the saloon,” he says. “Sometimes it seems like all this just sprang up overnight.”

“Susannah was telling me today that a Wells Fargo office is coming in next year.”

“Long overdue for that, if you ask me. Nearest place to send a telegram is either Abilene or Fort Worth, depending on where you’re at.”

“How many folks live here?”

“I can’t say I know for sure. If I were to wager a guess, maybe fifty or so in town. There’s a lot of ranches around these parts that do their business here, so if you consider them to be part of the town, there’s got to be at least another hundred.”

“It’s strange, but I grew up in a city of twenty thousand people and it always felt very small to me. But, standing here, on a street you can probably walk up and back in a quarter of an hour, it feels enormous.”

“Well, they say everything is bigger in Texas.”

“I have heard that.”

“Where to now, fair Kate?”

“Where does the Doctor live?”

“Up that way behind the boardinghouse.”

“I’d like to drop in on Monica first then, since the Doc is on the way back.”

Katherine takes Mulder’s hand to climb into the wagon and he drives them down the road, over a short bridge, and then past a grove of trees. A house appears as soon as they clear the trees, like an island in a sea of bluebonnets.

“Goodness,” Katherine says. “Monica said you can’t miss it.”

The rumble of the wagon must have alerted her friend. Monica comes out to the porch, wiping her hands on a dishrag. She waves and jumps down the steps to greet them as they come down the lane.

“I hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” Katherine says as she climbs down from the wagon. “We were in town so I wanted to say hello.”

“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled.” Monica hugs Katherine hard and keeps an arm around her shoulders as she waves to Mulder. “I’ve got cornbread in the oven that’ll be done soon. You’ll stay and have a cut before I bring dinner out to John, won’t you?”

“Well, that sounds too good to pass up,” Mulder answers.

“Come on in.”

The Doggett residence is similar to the ranch house. There’s a dogtrot that runs from the front to the back, but the left side of the house is all kitchen and dining area, presumably bedrooms are on the right. Monica offers them chairs at the table and then checks on the cornbread. Mulder holds a chair out for Katherine as she loosens her hat and removes her gloves, but he doesn’t sit down right away. He moves over to a breakfront along the wall and runs his hand over the smooth wood.

“This is a beauty,” he says.

“My boy built that,” Monica answers, proudly.

“The Sheriff did this?”

“No, our son Luke. I swear he was swinging a hammer before he could toddle.”

Mulder nods and continues to run his hand down the side and across the front. “How old might Luke be?”

“Fifteen. Just had a birthday on the 13th of October.”

“That’s funny, we have the same birthday.”

“Your birthday was the 13th?” Katherine asks. She’s mildly embarrassed that she had no idea her own husband’s birthday had passed.

“I didn’t even remember myself until just now.”

“What year were you born?” Monica asks.

“1861.”

Monica closes her eyes and tilts her head for a few moments. “You’re a three,” she says, with a brief nod.

“A three?”

“Yes, in numerology. Your life path number is a three. It means you like to inspire others and make them smile. But, if you feel you’ve been misinterpreted you can become sullen and withdrawn.”

“Is that right?” Mulder grins as he looks at Katherine and she raises her eyebrow. “But, I thought I was blue and red. Now I’m a number?”

“Oh, you told him about his aura?” Monica beams.

“I um…” Katherine can feel the heat rising to her cheeks as though she were caught gossipping. Mulder must sense her discomfort for he finally sits down beside her and takes her hand before hanging his hat on his bent knee.

“One day I’d like to hear all about it,” he says, squeezing Katherine’s hand. “I was just wondering though, Mrs. Doggett-”

“Oh, call me Monica, please.”

“Monica, that’s really high quality work your boy does. How would you feel about letting him come out this winter and work on an expansion out at my ranch? I’d pay him, of course.”

“I’d have to speak with my husband about it, but I’m sure Luke would be thrilled at the prospect. He’s been at us to quit school for the last few years.”

“Oh, but he can’t quit school,” Katherine says.

“Well, most of the kids around here quit by the age of twelve. They’re needed at their farms or ranches. Luke’s been the oldest in the schoolhouse for the last two years and he’s been pretty anxious to move on. John wouldn’t let him since we don’t have a farm and he’s certainly not going to allow his son to take on a job at the saloon, which is about the only place that’d hire a boy his age.”

“I’m going to be looking to hire quite a few men starting next month or so,” Mulder says. “There’s plenty of room in the bunkhouse for him and I’ll see to it he comes home for the week’s end. Your husband is welcome to ride out any time to check in.”

“I would keep my eye on him as well, if you’re at all concerned about that,” Katherine adds.

“Oh.” Monica puts her hand on Katherine’s arm and smiles. “I don’t doubt that. My, what a lovely ring!”

“Thank you.” Katherine runs her thumb along the side of her ring band with her thumb. “My husband got it for me.”

They spend the next half of an hour with Monica Doggett, sharing a slice of cornbread and chatting amicably. Mulder asks her more about this numerology thing and she happily shares with him more about his life path based on his birth date. When it’s time for them to take their leave, Mulder offers to drive Monica to the Sheriff’s office, but she says she would much rather walk. It’s just about her only time to herself and she enjoys it.

They ride back up into town and Mulder passes the bank to go down a smaller road behind the north side of the town. He points out a house up the ways with a sign hanging at the front that simply says ‘DOC’ etched in wood.

For some reason, Katherine feels nervous on the way up to the doctor’s porch. She knows she already made a good impression on the doctor, but still wonders if that was just politeness. The doctors she knew from nurse’s training were mercurial. Someone bearing a compliment one day could come bearing condescension the next, or worse. 

Mulder opens the door to usher her inside. Doctor Black peeks out from behind a curtain and smiles broadly.

“Just my luck,” the doctor says. “I’ve just set a broken bone and could surely use your assistance while I mix a plaster.”   
  


“Of course,” Katherine says. She immediately takes her gloves off and hands them to Mulder. 

There’s a young boy perched at the edge of the exam table, no more than five or six, sniffling and sullen. Katherine moves to him and right away she can see that his left wrist is broken. She smiles at him and takes a gentle hold on his arm, cradling his wrist in her hands so the doctor can get to work on mixing a plaster.

“My name is Katherine,” she says to the boy. “Who might you be?”

“Joey Skinner.”

“Is Walter Skinner your father, son?” Mulder asks. 

Joey nods and then wipes his nose with the back of his good hand.

“Has anyone gone to fetch Mr. Skinner?” Mulder asks Doctor Black. “I could run over to the bank right now.”

“Yes, why don’t you do that.” Doctor Black nods to Mulder and then hands Katherine a roll of gauze. “I trust you can wrap up that wrist.”

“Certainly.” She deftly holds Joey’s arm with one hand and uses her thumb to pin the edge of the gauze down and begins to wrap. “Joey, you tell me if this hurts, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, how did this happen?”

“I was playing tag with Grace and Emma and Isaac and I was ‘It’ and I was running and I tripped on a rock and I felled down and my hand hurted real bad. Grace yelled for Miss Holly and Miss Holly bringed me to the doc.”

“Well, I think you’re a very brave boy and we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Now,” Doctor Black says, rolling a small table over with a bowl of milky liquid and wrappings. “Joey, this might feel a little cold, but you do your best to hold still, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent wrapping,” the doctor tells Katherine. “Would you like to do the plaster?”

Katherine nods and the doctor moves the table to her side so she can work. She runs the wrapping through the liquid and winds it around Joey’s small wrist and arm, moving methodically. She has experience with setting and wrapping broken bones, but never on a child. She’s cautious, but tries to be quick for Joey’s sake. Doctor Black provides her with a few short instructions as she goes.

“Beautiful work,” Doctor Black says when Katherine is wiping her hands dry. “Joey, is there any pain in your wrist now or in your arm.”

“It’s kinda itchy.”

“Yes, it might be, but you can’t scratch right now, I’m sorry. We’re going to let it dry and when it’s done it’ll be hard as a rock and keep your wrist in place so it can heal.”

Joey’s bottom lip begins to tremble. “Is it gonna be on my arm forever and ever?”

Katherine puts her arm around Joey and rubs his shoulder. “Not forever, sweetheart, just a few weeks is all. And the doctor will probably check on it a time or two to make sure it’s healing properly.”

“That’s right,” Doctor Black says.

“Joey!? Joey!?” Walter Skinner bursts through the door with Mulder behind him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Joey.” Mr. Skinner rushes over and for a moment, Katherine is afraid he’s going to grab the boy up in a fit of panic before the cast sets. 

“Everything’s alright,” Katherine says.

“What happened, son?”

“I was playing tag…”

As soon as Joey starts up with his story again, Katherine slips away from the exam table to go to Mulder. “He okay?” Mulder asks.

“It wasn’t a bad break.”

“Good.” He pulls Katherine’s gloves from his pocket and hands them to her.

Doctor Black comes up to the two of them and he and Mulder shake hands. Mulder gives him the extra bottle of liniment he bought at the mercantile and the doctor thanks him.

“Looks as though your shoulder’s healed nicely,” Doctor Black says.

“Yes, well, I happened to have a very strict nursemaid to see me through.” Mulder chuckles and Katherine demurs a little.

“If you think you could spare your wife for a few days a month, I’d be happy to have the help here.” 

“Oh, I really couldn’t,” Katherine answers.

“Why couldn’t you?” Mulder asks.

“Well, there’s just so much to do. And the expansion is coming up, so…”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Mulder nods to the doctor and at Katherine. “Good skills should never go to waste.”

Katherine is all but rendered speechless. She doesn’t know if she’s shocked or grateful or why she should even be so surprised. Mulder’s the only man she’s ever known that doesn’t seem to want to control her in some way, who seems to want her to have independence as much as she wants it. And she doesn’t just think he’s putting on airs of a generous husband in front of the doctor. She believes that he means what he says.

“We’ll talk it over,” she says.

“Joey.” Mulder produces a quarter and walks over and hands it to the boy. “Next time you’re in the Byers mercantile, you tell Mr. Byers you want a bag of his best penny candy.”

“Gee, thank you, Sir!”

After they leave the doctor’s place and get back into the wagon, Katherine sits close to Mulder and holds his arm as he drives. “Did you know Mr. Skinner had a boy?” she asks.

“Hell, until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know he had a wife. He doesn’t talk much.”

“I think that minor panic may have caused him to lose what little hair he’s got left.”

Mulder roars with laughter.


	18. First Time for Everything

Halfway to home, Mulder stops the wagon. The horses have started to shake their heads against their harnesses and begin to snort and whinny. He cocks his head a bit and stares east, out into the sky for a few moments before he sets the brake and gets down from the seat.

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asks.

Mulder works to try to calm the pair of stallions hooked to the wagon, rubbing their foreheads and jaws. “You know that article you were reading in that journal?” he asks Katherine. “About the weather lore?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I think these boys are trying to tell us something.” Mulder nods off to the east. “You feel that wind?”

“A bit.”

“There’ll be rain soon.”

“Will we make it home?”

“I think we’ll be in ahead of those clouds out there.” Mulder climbs back up onto the wagon seat and releases the brake. “At least, I sure do hope so.”

The weather vane at the ranch is quivering, pointing to a southeasterly wind. Melvin and Trevor are outside, moving the livestock into the barn, when Mulder and Katherine drive up in the wagon. Richard is closing up the shutters on the house. Jesse and Jimmy aren’t there, having left the day before for a trip out to their family’s place. 

“Go on and grab up what you can from the back of the wagon,” Mulder tells Katherine. “I’m going to help secure things out here and I can bring in the rest when we’re done.”

“Alright, be careful.” Katherine loads a crate to the brim with packages and goes off to the house.

It takes some time to get all the animals moved from the pens to the barn. The goats complain the loudest about their new accommodations and they bleat and kick the walls and leap up onto workbenches and leap off, agitating the suckling pigs and making them squeal. Trevor provides them with fresh hay and carrots and they settle down. 

Mulder goes to the stables to check on the horses. They move about restlessly and Mulder goes from stall to stall, giving each one his individual attention for a few minutes to try to keep them calm.

“Trevor and I are going to pack some bedrolls and he’ll bunk in the hayloft tonight,” Melvin tells Mulder. “I’ll stay here in the stables and make sure they don’t fret none when the storm starts up.”

“You don’t think we’re expecting a twister, do you?”

“Naw, I smell the rain and my knee always acts up when we’re expectin’ a doozy.”

“Just got a couple bottles of a liniment from the mercantile today if you want me to leave one with you.”

“May not help much, but I could give it a try.”

“I’ll see if Katherine can fix up an early supper and pack some things up for you. You have your slickers and boots on hand?”

“Told the boy to have ‘em at the ready.”

“Richard staying in the bunkhouse?”

“Reckon so.”

“I’m going to latch the doors tonight, but if you need anything, I expect you to come for me.”

“I ain’t worried about nothin’.”

“Alright then.”

Mulder fills a crate and brings it to the house and then runs back to get the last of the goods. Katherine is in the kitchen with a fire already burning in the stove and chopping vegetables.

“Leave the crates and I’ll put everything away later,” she says. “I figured I should get a start on supper early just in case.”

“I was just telling Melvin I’d ask you to do that. Can I help with anything?”

“Get the lamps lit? It’s a little dark with the shutters closed.”

“I can do that.”

Mulder lights the lamps in the dogtrot and then brings one of the ones from his room into the kitchen for more light. He sets the table while Katherine finishes cooking and he tries to help unload some of the supplies, but he can tell she tires quite quickly of instructing him on where things should be kept so he leaves it be. He takes the bottles of liniment and the package of denim trousers.

Supper is a quick affair. The boys barely sit and barely eat. Katherine seems to have anticipated a swift departure and she’s packed up some tins with more than enough provisions. At the first sound of the slight patter of rain, they’re gone like buckshot, abandoning dishware and cutlery at Katherine’s insistence and then it’s just the two of them.

“I was afraid they might break a dish in their haste,” Katherine says. “Are they always like this when we have a storm?”

“You’ve never been in a Texas storm before, have you? It’s not something you want to get caught out in.”

“No, but I’ve been through my share of hurricanes.”

“Then you should be just fine.”

Mulder offers to help clean the dishes so Katherine can get the goods put away. He has his part done faster than she does and so he goes to check that none of the shutters are loose and that the back door is securely latched. The rain is coming down steadily and hard. He can hear it on the roof and on the porch.

Curious, he opens the front door to see what things look like. He’s lucky that the wind is blowing away from the house and that the deluge is moving away from the door and not towards it. There’s lightning in the distance, but he doesn’t hear any thunder.

“Kate?” he calls. “Come take a look at this.”

Katherine emerges from the kitchen, bringing the lamp with her. He takes it from her when she gets close enough and sets it down on the entry table.

“Goodness,” she says. “It looks as terrible as it sounds. Will the boys be alright out there?”

“The roof on the barn got replaced last autumn, so it should stay pretty dry. I’ve spent a few storms out there myself and am no worse for wear.”

Katherine leans against the door and stares out at the rain. Occasionally, the side of her face is illuminated with a quick flash of lightning. The thunder begins to softly growl as the storm moves closer.

“I’ve never really liked storms,” she says with a sigh.

“Why not?”

“They can be so terribly destructive.”

“That’s true.” He watches her watch the storm. She wraps her arms around her waist and shivers slightly. He steps towards her and brings his arm across her body to hold her elbow. “Are you cold?”

“A little chill, is all.”

He steps even closer so that her shoulder rests against his chest and he brings both arms around her loosely, holding her sideways. He can feel her twisting her wedding ring around her finger against his arm.

“I want to ask you something,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“I saw how quickly you took your place in assisting the doc today with the Skinner boy. And I may not have been conscious after my fall, but I know how you treated me during my injury and recovery. Nursing folks seems to be something that comes natural to you. Why did you tell the doc you couldn’t go out and help him now and again?”

She rolls her head back and to the side to look at him. “That wasn’t in our agreement.”

“I guess I missed the fine print in our marriage certificate where it says you have to give up on your dreams.”

“My dream was to be a doctor.”

“I think you’d make a mighty fine doctor. So, why didn’t you jump at the opportunity for some tutelage?” 

“I had to leave that behind a long time ago.”

“Katherine.”

“So now it’s Katherine, if you think I’m being unreasonable?”

He moves one hand up and strokes her cheek. “I don’t think you’re being unreasonable, I just want you to be happy,” he tells her. “I don’t want you to ever regret marrying me the way you regret marrying Jack.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that.”

“No?”

She opens her mouth and is interrupted by a clap of thunder so loud that it leaves Mulder’s ears ringing. Katherine gasps and turns into his arms with a shiver. He holds the back of her head and tightens his arm around her waist. The grandfather clock in the hall chimes eight times.

“What were you going to say?” he asks, when it falls silent.

Her voice trembles when she answers. “I was going to say that...that I stopped feeling so regretful as soon as I met you.”

He can’t help but kiss her then. He’s been feeling like that for a long time, like all the sorrow he’s been through in his life, the loneliness he’s felt, the opportunities he’s rejected to chase this dream of his, all suddenly made sense to him when he married her. 

He learns what lust really feels like in this moment. It’s a powerful urge, to want someone so much and so badly. It’s like something has taken over his body and makes his hands clutch her hips, makes his groin ache so badly that he has to push his hips into her belly, makes him groan into her mouth as she pushes back. Whatever is happening he wants more of it. Wants to rut against the door with her legs wrapped around him, wants to pull her skirts up and feel the back of her thighs in his hands, wants her hands kneading him all over instead of just his shoulders, wants his skin against her skin and nothing between them.

He has to pull away from her to catch his breath and because his heart is racing so fast his chest feels like it might burst. Her head rolls against the door, back and forth, and then her eyes open. She looks intoxicated, eyes dark, cheeks red, lips swollen.

“Please,” she says. “Don’t...don’t stop.”

↭

She’s never felt this way before. Never felt so overwhelmed with want in all her life. She wants Mulder to kiss her again, she wants to feel his weight on her, she wants to touch him in all the places she knows are sinful and for him to touch her in the places that are too sinful to even touch herself. She thinks that everything she was told was wicket as a girl was a lie. None of what she feels now can possibly be wrong when it feels so right.

Mulder pulls her away from the front door and slams it shut. She holds onto one of his hands with both of hers and follows him into his bedroom. Her knees are shaking and her heart is pounding. There’s an unbearable ache deep in her belly and between her thighs and it’s so unnerving for her to think that he’s the one that brought it there and the only one that can take it away for her.

Mulder shuts the bedroom door very softly and they stand before each other in the lamplight. He’s only inches away, but it feels too far. She breathes in the musky scent of him and sways on her feet.

“Kate,” he whispers, and catches her with an arm around her waist, hand pressed low on her back. She gasps as a swoop of heat arcs low in her pelvis. Is this what swooning is?

“I want to lay with you,” she says. 

“I want to undress you.”

She nods and then turns in his arms so he can undo the buttons on her skirt. She feels him tug and pull, tug and pull, tug and pull, undoing each button down from the small of her back to just below the curve of her buttocks. The skirt falls and she steps away from it and then turns to him again. She helps him with the buttons on her blouse, moving up from the bottom as he moves down from her throat. They meet in the middle and then she can shrug the shirt off, leaving her in her chemise and bloomers.

“Now, you,” she says.

He nods and pulls his suspenders down from his shoulders one at a time. He tugs his shirt off first and then crouches down to unlace his boots. After he kicks off his shoes, he unbuttons his trousers and pushes them free of his hips.

“I’ll need your help,” she says, leaning against the edge of the bed and pointing one foot out to him.

Mulder kneels down and takes her foot onto his leg. He doesn’t apologize this time when he touches her ankle like he did when he helped her onto the horse. Her foot rests high on his thigh and he looks at her as he pushes each button free. The anticipation of removing the shoe is actually making it hard for her to breathe and it certainly isn’t helping with the ache between her thighs.

Finally, Mulder pulls the first shoe from her foot and she sighs. He pushes the hem of her bloomers up her leg and then draws her stocking down. She bites her lip as he softly massages her calf and ankle and then draws one hand over the top of her foot and rubs his thumb across her toes. He brings her first foot back to the floor and then has to repeat the whole process with the other. By the time he’s finished, she’s panting and trying not to squirm.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, massaging the back of her ankle.

“Alright.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just continues to massage her foot. The storm outside swells and the rain splatters against the walls and the widow. Lightning flickers through the slats of the shutters and thunder rumbles again, but it’s lower this time.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says. “I was nearly engaged once, but we never...it was a long time ago. What I mean to say is, if I do something wrong, if...well, if there’s something I should be doing that I’m not, you just tell me.”

She doesn’t know what to think about what he’s just told her. It surprises her, to say the least, given her experience with men. She also feels a pang of sympathy for him. There are things that she hasn’t done either, though she won’t tell him of it now. Despite having been married, she’s never seen a naked, aroused man before. Jack would not let her look and would not let her touch him. She’s also never been nude in front of any man. Intercourse was always something stolen from her, something she had no participation in other than being there. It was painful, it was unpleasant, it was beyond her control. What’s happening now is different, and she knows it. She doesn’t know what to expect either or what to do. Not really. Perhaps she should tell him she’s in the same place that he is, but she doesn’t know how to explain.

“Come here,” she says.

He stands up on his knees and then gets to his feet before her. She slides off the bed a little and then takes his hips and has him take a step even closer to her. She unknots the drawstring on his drawers and hesitates when the underwear loosens and slips down his hips a few inches, exposing the top of his penis. She tries not to stare, but she can’t help it. It’s wet and glistening and twitches slightly when she tugs at his drawers to bring them off completely.

She holds him where her palms fit nicely at the muscular dip below his hips. Her fingers curve naturally with the swell of his buttocks. He clenches and shifts his feet. His hands curl into loose fists and his fingers twitch.

“Can I touch you?” she asks.

He nods quickly and then grits his teeth and swallows. “Oh hell,” he groans when she wraps her hand around him. For a moment she thinks she’s done something wrong, but then she looks at his face and his eyes are closed, chin dropped nearly to his chest, mouth open. She flexes her fingers to open her hand and then closes it around him again and he sways.

“Oh yes,” he moans. “Oh, Kate.” Even though his penis is hard, the skin is unexpectedly soft like velvet. She pets him lightly and then uses her thumb to stroke up from the bottom of his shaft to the top. He grabs onto her shoulder and his knees bend a little. 

Without even thinking about it, Katherine takes Mulder’s hand from her shoulder and brings it down to her breast. He squeezes her almost experimentally at first and then more boldly. She gasps slightly when his thumb rubs over her nipple and the grip she has on his penis tightens a bit. He groans and sways again only this time his hips jerk towards her and then back.

“Oh Kate that feels so good,” Mulder says.

Encouraged, Katherine continues to pet him and rub him and he groans again and then covers her hand with his and curls her fingers into a tight fist around him. He moves her hand up and down in his, faster and faster. His hips jerk in time with the push and pull of their hands. He makes soft little grunting whines in the back of his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. Blindly, he gropes for the edge of her chemise and lifts it up until he’s holding her bare breast in his hand and kneading it in time with her strokes.

“Oh, oh...oh I...I…” Mulder’s head falls back and he bares his teeth and groans from deep in his gut. His hips jerk forward and his buttocks clench and Katherine feels the warm rush of his seed spilling through her fingers and into their joined fists.

Time seems to come to a standstill for a few moments and then Mulder lets go of her breast and lets go of her hand and his eyes come open and his mouth rounds into the shape of an ‘o’ and then he hastily begins pulling at his undershirt to whip it over his head.

“Forgive me,” he says, wiping at her hand with his shirt. “Oh, Kate, I’m sorry.”

“Why? Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen?”

“Yes, but I didn’t intend to soil your hand in the process.”

“I don’t feel soiled.”

“That eases my embarrassment some.”

“Please, don’t be.”

Mulder tosses the undershirt away and then seems to realize he’s naked and moves his arms around like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Katherine laughs and then grabs his hand and pulls him towards her. She lays back where she is and he bends over her with his hands beside her shoulders on the bed.

“Do I get the honor of touching you now?” he asks.

“If...if you would like to.”

“Would you like me to?”

She takes a deep breath, swallows once, and then nods. He pushes away from her and then takes her hands and pulls her back up so she’s sitting at the edge of the bed again. He pulls the lace ties of her chemise apart and pushes the straps over her shoulders. She shivers when her chest is exposed, sending gooseflesh up her arms. He gazes at her openly and just the thought of him wanting her in such a way makes her nipples tighten painfully.

Mulder leans closer to her and touches the neglected breast he did not give any attention to previously. He cups it in his hand and then bends his head and puts his mouth on her. She is caught off guard and pushes his head away, blinking in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asks, pulling her shoulders into her body a bit and covering her breasts with her arms.

“I wanted to...is that not okay to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t do it then.”

“You wanted to?”

“Well, yes, I...yes.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know. If I ask you to stop, will you?”

“Of course.”

He says that like it’s a given that ‘please, no’ and ‘don’t’ are magic words that people just adhere to. She knows they’re not always heard and she knows they’re not always respected. She also knows she shouldn’t judge Mulder by the poor character of other men. He’s proven to her several times over that he is kind and trustworthy. She opens her arms, baring her chest again to him, but she’s trembling all over.

“Alright,” she says. “Go ahead.”

“Are you cold, honey?”

She shakes her head no in response. His eyes roam her face for a few moments and instead of going back to her breast he kisses her. She responds instantly, bringing her arms up and over his back to pull him closer. He’s warm and the sparse hair on his chest tickles her breasts when she brushes against him. He slides his arm under her and lifts her up slightly as he crawls onto the bed.

She’s still on her back, but he’s on his side. He moves one hand over her body, down her arm, up her arm, over her breast, around her hip, across her belly, up her neck, over her breast again, down to her navel. 

He pulls his mouth from hers and she protests with a whimper, but he starts to kiss her face and then her neck and then her shoulders and her insides start to feel like melting butter. She’s liquidy and soft all over. He kisses the top of her breast and the side of her breast and then the inside of her elbow where her arm is bent to hold his face in her hands.

“Mulder,” she whispers. 

“Kate,” he murmurs back.

The way he says her name makes her body flush. She pulls his head up so she can look at him and he cocks his head a little and rubs his jaw into her hand. He touches her face and draws his thumb over her hairline and to her ear.

“Will you take your hair down?” he asks.

“Okay.” 

They have to untangle their arms a bit so she can sit up and she pulls her braid over her shoulder and unties the band keeping it in place. She unravels the plait with the pull of her fingers and the curls spring free.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, running his fingertips over the waves of her hair reverently.

She shakes her head a little in disbelief and then lays back again and stares up at the ceiling. She folds her arms up to cover her breasts and finds herself nervously twisting her wedding band again when she tries so hard not to. He lays down beside her again and props himself up on one hand and then reaches over to lightly cover her wrists.

“What is it?” he asks.

She shakes her head again. When she was younger, the other kids at school wouldn’t play with her because they thought redheads were witches. Her brother once told her that no one would ever want to marry her because boys thought freckles were disgusting. Her mother once told her it was a shame she’d inherited her grandmother Scully’s nose. Jack had told her repeatedly that her body felt like a bag of bones and that it repulsed him. 

“Kate?”

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know I’m not very pretty.”

“Not pretty? The first time I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“I was unkempt and exhausted the day you met me.”

“That does not mean you weren’t beautiful. Who told you you weren’t pretty? That horse’s ass, Jack Willis?”

“Everyone.”

“Then everyone is wrong.”

“Everyone is wrong, but you are right?”

“In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever been wrong?”

She smiles a little and then begins to laugh. He smiles as well and brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her wrist. In the hallway, the grandfather clock chimes nine times. The rain falls as steadily as it has been with no signs of stopping.

“I’ve never done this either,” she says, and he gives her a questioning look. She shakes her head a little again and brings his hand back to her face. “Not like this. I want you to keep touching me.”

“That’s good, because I really want to keep touching you.”

She leans up and kisses him this time and he kisses her back. She shifts closer and pulls him to her so that she can bring one of her arms around him and stroke his back. She wants to wrap herself around him and maybe stay there for a little while where she knows she’s safe. 

He touches her a little more confidently than he had before. He’s more firm, squeezes her breast a little tighter, doesn’t hesitate to pull her hips up towards his and push his body against hers. He’s hard again and she knows that consummation is imminent. She’s not nervous about it and doesn’t feel a sense of obligation to go through with it. She wants it to happen. She’s ready for it to happen.

Mulder’s fingers brush the top of her bloomers and he blindly unknots the drawstring. Once the stays are loose, he slides his hand inside at her hip, lightly caressing her backside before moving around to the top of her thighs. He breaks from kissing her to look down and she watches his face as he brings his hand between her thighs. His fingers move gently through her curls and slip easily into the natural groove there that brings him inside of her. His eyes widen and his lips purse as though he’s surprised.

“You feel so...so tight,” he whispers. “Will it be okay? Will I hurt you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she lies. It’s never not been painful. She only hopes it won’t be this time.

He pulls his hand out from her bloomers and then she helps him pull them off her legs and just like that, she’s laid bare for him. Unabashed, unashamed. She opens her arms to him and when he comes down to her, she opens her legs as well. 

“If you need me to stop,” he says. “I will.”

“I won’t,” she answers.

He moves awkwardly over her. Bearing in mind he has no experience, she folds one knee up and rubs encouragingly at his shoulder. She watches him fumble between touching himself and touching her and he blows out little puffs of frustration from his pouting lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought...I thought I would just know how to…”

“It’s alright.” 

Katherine wets her lips and then reaches down and takes a hold of him. She shifts her hips and brings the tip of his penis to her folds and probes gently until she feels him begin to slip inside and then she stops and shifts again. She lets go of him and then holds onto his hips as he pushes his way into her. His body hunches over hers and he presses his head into the bed and pants into her shoulder.

“Oh my God,” he moans. “Jesus, Kate, you feel so good. Is this okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she says, and it isn’t a lie. She feels a slight sting at first, but then nothing. Nothing but the hot velvet feel of him inside of her. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like an invasion, it feels like a welcome home.

“I...I have to move,” he says. “Can I move?”

“Yes, move. Please.”

He brings his hips back, but only marginally, like he can’t bear not to be as fully enmeshed in her as he can be, and then he pushes quickly back into her and moans. She slides her hands over his buttocks and squeezes. His hips jerk again and he cries out her name.

“You feel good to me too,” she tells him.

“I do?”

“Yes. Yes.” And that is not a lie either. He has a way of undulating his hips so that his pelvis slides against hers and she can feel something building inside her, something glorious. Her toes begin to tingle and she feels fire in her cheeks.

“This is incredible,” he says. “I can’t believe how incredible you are.”

“Oh!” Something happens in the next snap of his hips. Her chest raises up into his and her head falls back. Mulder buries his face into the straining muscles at her neck. She can’t take a breath, can’t say a word, can’t do a thing but claw at his buttocks as her body folds up into his. She feels as though she’s riding a wave. No, she feels as though she is the wave, cresting and falling and then oozing towards land. She feels as though she’s just been released of a heavy burden that she wasn’t even aware she was carrying.

“Kate, God, oh…” Mulder holds her tightly to him as he spills into her. She feels the warm rush of it flood through her and she’s not repulsed, like she would be with Jack. She isn’t eager to get away. She wants him to stay longer, stay as long as he can.

“Don’t go,” she whispers, when he shifts above her.

“I won’t,” he says, but it’s not a promise he can really keep. He finally has to move from between her thighs rolls to his back beside her.

They lay side by side for some time and then Mulder gets up and he goes to his wash stand. He pours water into the basin and wets a rag and then wrings it out and pats his chest and face a few times before wetting it again and cleaning himself between his legs. He wets and wrings the rag again and then brings it to Katherine. She reaches for it, but he sits down beside her and cleans her thighs himself.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Should I get a nightdress for you from your room?” he asks, draping the rag over the rack at the side of the stand. “Will you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll be right back.” Mulder goes out into the hall and turns off the lamps and then checks the door. He brings the lamp in his room over to the bedside table and Katherine moves off the bed so he can pull the bedclothes down. It’s apparent he expects her to stay with him tonight. She had hoped he would ask and never thought he would just assume that is the way it would be. She lays down and he brings the sheets over her.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, when he slips into bed behind her.

She blinks in surprise, but nods. He turns away to put the lamp out and then lays down and brings his arm around her. His chest is pressed to her back and his legs curl into the shape of hers. His knees jut into the bottoms of her feet. She lays her arm alongside his and he turns his hand into hers so that their fingers lace together.

She doesn’t fall asleep immediately. It takes some time for her heartbeat to slow, for her eyes to droop, for the rain to lull her. The grandfather clock chimes ten times though she hears it as though through a dense fog. She feels Mulder move behind her, feels him lean over her and kiss her cheek, but she’s too sleepy to respond.

She thinks he might whisper ‘I love you,’ but it might be a dream.


	19. After the Storm

The morning light is shining through the slats of the shutters onto his face. He breathes deeply and then smiles. Pieces of his wife’s hair are caught in his lips and he brushes it free. He will never tire of thinking of her as his wife.

Unsure of the etiquette for awaking beside her for the first time, he stays still for some time and watches her. She’s angled towards him with her shoulder against his chest and her face in profile. The sheets have been kicked low at some point in the night and are bunched by their hips. Her long hair covers her breasts.

Very carefully, so as not to disturb her, he gently pulls her hair back over her shoulder so he can see her. He can scarcely believe that last night was real and that they are both still naked together in his bed. He feels himself growing hard, feels the tight grip of arousal seize his groin.

Softly, he caresses her arm. She sighs in her sleep and he watches as her nipples tighten into little buds right before his eyes. He touches one with his fingertip, fascinated, and her lips part and she sighs again. He moves his hand from her breast to her belly. It’s warm and soft there with a slight curve below her navel.

While watching her face, he slides his hand under the bunched up sheet and palms her backside. Her eyes come open slowly and she gives him a drowsy smile and then closes them again.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

She mumbles something that sounds like ‘good morning’ back to him, but it’s more like a noise than actual words. He chuckles and then strokes the top of her thigh. She seems to have fallen back to sleep, if she ever even really woke at all, and he leans over to kiss the corner of her mouth. His hips bump against the swell of her backside and he can’t help but press his aching groin into the snug fold of her cheeks.

“Mm, Kate,” he moans.

Her eyes come open again and she stretches out like a cat, arching her back against him. He flattens his hand to her belly and holds her close.

“I didn’t know you would feel so good,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

She stretches again and rolls to her stomach. He pulls at her hip to try to bring her back to him and the movement lifts her bottom slightly and causes her legs to part. He can see her sex from this angle, pink and wet. He feels like all the blood in his body swoops down to his groin and makes him swell and pulse. His cock points towards her opening like it’s a beacon calling him home. He takes himself into a tight fist and pushes into her hips. He slides in so easily it almost makes him weep and then he grasps her hip and presses his pelvis into hers.

“Oh, God,” he groans.

Without warning, Katherine goes stiff and she cries out. “Stop,” she pleads. “Stop, stop.”

Mulder freezes. He takes his hand off her hip and he backs his pelvis away from her. The slide out of her is almost painful and he immediately longs to be back inside of her. That longing turns to fear and concern almost immediately and his arousal ebbs as quickly as it had swelled.

Katherine curls into a ball, shaking and shivering and gasping for air. He’s afraid to touch her so he brings the bedclothes up and over her and tucks them around her and finally puts a hand on her head.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Kate, I’m sorry.”

She sucks in deep gulps of air like she’s in danger of drowning and he thinks she may just be in danger of hyperventilating. He pulls her up and into his lap and wraps his arms around her and cocoons her as best that he can.

“Do you know the story of George?” he asks, not expecting or waiting for an answer. He pets her head and keeps her cheek to his shoulder and continues. “I took George off some jackass delivery man who was beating him in the street because George couldn’t couldn’t go fast enough. I’d told that man before that George wasn’t the right horse for the job, but he didn’t listen and George suffered for it.”

“It took a long time for George to settle in here,” he says, rocking her slightly like a child. “He was spooked by everything, even his own shadow. He couldn’t say to me, ‘I’m afraid of black hats,’ or ‘I’m afraid of the sound of boots on wood,’ but I figured out all these things eventually. I made mistakes with him along the way, but he understands now that he’s safe. It takes time to feel safe. George is a horse, though, not a person. If he could have told me just some of what he was feeling, I might have helped him sooner.”

He stops talking and drops his chin to look down at her. She’s quiet, her shaking has subsided a bit, but still she twitches at times. Her hands are curled up under her chin and her fingers and thumbs rub together like she’s pulling something through them. Her lips move, but she’s only mouthing words, not saying a thing.

“Kate?” he whispers. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him. 

↭

She isn’t quite sure what happened. One minute she was feeling good and that delicious ache between her thighs was back and Mulder was petting her and touching her and suddenly she remembered those times when Jack would hold her head down to the pillow and when she couldn’t breathe and when she struggled and he would grab her wrists and hold them so tightly her arms would go numb.

The memory was so strong that she could feel it all over again. The loss of breath. The pins and needles in her hands. The pain between her legs. Her body had seized up, had rejected the pleasurable feel of her husband’s loving touch and forced her to cry out in fear.

Mulder had kept his word to her. She’d asked him to stop and he did, immediately and without any questions or hesitation. She hates that Jack can still torment her in this way and interfere with this new life she has.

Mulder starts to tell her the story of the horse that Susannah had told her about when she’d asked what kind of man he was. She can hear the fear in his voice and the pleading tone he takes when he laments that the horse could not speak to him. ‘Talk to me,’ she hears him whisper in her ear when he asks if she’s alright. ‘Talk to me,’ his eyes say when he looks down at her. 

“I’m sorry,” she says.


	20. Faithful Jenny

The incident breeds awkwardness between them for the rest of the morning. Katherine moves out of his arms eventually and he helps her to gather her clothes. She keeps her eyes down as she dresses, leaving things unbuttoned and untied, and doesn’t look at him.

“I just need a few minutes to put some fresh clothes on,” she says. “And then I’ll see to breakfast.”

“Take your time. I’ll need to check on the boys and see if the storm did any damage.”

She nods once and then she slips out the door. He wonders if he should go after her or say something, but he doesn’t know what to say that he hasn’t already. He sighs and then dresses for the day.

Melvin and Trevor already have the barn open when he makes it outside. Richard is repairing a fencepost in the hog pen. The ground is muddy, but the sky is blue and the sun is bright. 

“How are things?” Mulder asks.

“Everyone pulled through,” Melvin answers. “Trevor said that them sheeps were noisy little buggers. Queenie was fit to be tied over their restlessness, but they settled once the rain let up.”

“How did George do?”

“Just fine. We actually moved the goats into the stable before it got bad and I put ‘em in with George. They kept good company for each other.”

“Roof held up?”

“Just fine.”

“Good, good.”

“Everything alright with you?”

“Just fine.” Mulder rubs the back of his head and looks away from Melvin.

“Mmhm.”

With Jesse and Jimmy away, there is just too much to be done for Mulder to dwell on Katherine’s reluctance to let him in. Whatever happened this morning, it doesn’t change the closeness they shared the night before, that he now knows is possible to have. He’s not angry, he’s just sad for her and for them. Whatever Jack Willis did to her, if the man wasn’t already dead, Mulder would kill him.

It takes some time to relocate the livestock back to their pens. The hogs romp and roll in the mud, ecstatic, ignoring their slop initially in favor of getting dirty. Katherine rings the breakfast bell as they’re mucking the stables and Mulder sends them in ahead of him. He doesn’t have much of an appetite anyway.

Katherine jumps up from the table when he comes in and rushes to the stove. He puts his arm around her and takes the spatula from her hand. “Go on and sit down,” he says. “I know how to fix a plate up.”

“The eggs might be cold. I covered the bacon to keep it warm.”

“That’s my fault. I’m late.” He kisses her cheek and sends her away.

Melvin scrutinizes them the whole meal. He can feel the older man’s eyes on him at times and he catches him looking at Katherine as well. 

“It’s already starting to dry up out there,” Mulder says. “I think we should send the horses out to pasture today, what do you think? Let them run off any residual nerves and they might enjoy a nice roll in the mud, though probably not as much as the hogs.”

“You want to run the curry comb through the lot of ‘em at the end of the day, go on ahead,” Melvin says.

Mulder chuckles. “It’s Saturday. You boys planning on heading down to the bath house tonight? Faithful Jenny and Blondie would probably like a nice ride. That black stallion from the postal team, he handles well with a saddle.”

“Why do you call the horse Faithful Jenny?” Katherine asks.

Richard laughs. Mulder chuckles around a mouthful of eggs. Trevor turns a shade of red that would make a ripe tomato jealous. Melvin coughs into his fist.

“Have you ever heard of Old Faithful in Yellowstone?” Mulder asks.

Katherine shakes her head no. Mulder takes another stab at his eggs and then wipes his eyes and sits back.

“Old Faithful is a geyser,” he says. “Some members of an expedition were camped nearby and noticed that she erupted with predictability every ten minutes or so.”

Richard pounds a fist on the table and laughs so hard he doubles over off the bench. Mulder shakes his head, but has to laugh with him.

“We got Jenny from a rancher nearby that couldn’t take it no more,” Melvin continues where Mulder left off. “He come ‘round with her and asked if we could just buy her off him for a fair price because he was at his wits end.”

“But, she’s a lovely horse,” Katherine says.

“Oh, yes,” Mulder says. “She’s a good old gal, she was just also foraging in the wrong places and got herself a bad case of the colic.”

“You’re not gettin’ to the best part,” Richard says.

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Mulder tells him. “You sure do enjoy the tale.”

“The best part is that when Mr. Miles dropped her off he said, ‘I tell you what, you can set your watch by that horse’s farts, I reckon. Probably gives Old Faithful a run for her money.’”

“Oh, my.” Katherine’s cheeks redden for a moment and then the corners of her mouth pick up and her lips quiver like she’s trying to suppress her amusement, but she can’t hold it for long. Her giggles almost sound like hiccups and she covers her mouth with one hand. Her shoulders are shaking and she lets go with a full belly laugh that has the whole table roaring in no time.

“She’s on a special diet now so her, uh, troubles have passed,” Mulder says, when the laughter has died down. “But, we got used to calling her Faithful Jenny and so the name just carries on.”

“Poor Jenny,” Katherine says.

“You’re lucky you never stood downwind of her some years ago,” Richard says.

The table breaks up into laughter once more.

↭

She’s felt anxious and embarrassed for most of the day. The hilarity at the breakfast table eased some of her tension, but by noon dinner she had a knot in her stomach. Her misery is self-imposed. She knows this. Mulder has been nothing but gentle and tender with her all day and she returns his kindness with silence.

While the men tend to the horses and get ready for their Saturday trek into town, she launders the sheets and the week’s dirty clothes. There’s a stain on one of Mulder’s undershirts and she realizes it’s the one he used to clean her hands last night. The thought of what they did makes her breathless. She has to grip the side of the washtub to keep upright she feels so faint.

She wants so badly to erase the past and move forward. She wants so badly for this new marriage she has to feel real. Last night was as real as it could be, but she had to ruin things this morning. Perhaps she’s mistaking Mulder’s kindness for pity, and she wouldn’t blame him for it. She’s pathetic and weak and doesn’t deserve all the nice things he’s done for her.

She refuses to dwell on this now. She has chores to do and meals to prepare. It’s why she’s here. Not to fall in love with her own husband. She gasps and for the second time, has to grip the side of the washtub. Is she in love? No, she can’t be. She hardly knows him. She only knows that he’s kind, he’s generous, he laughs easy, he has a slight temper, but isn’t violent. He’s patient, he’s good to his horses and the men that work for him. He’s good to her. 

She hears the back door close and she startles at the sound and automatically jumps to start scrubbing the undershirt in her hand. Mulder knocks softly on the side of the washroom door and smiles at her.

“The boys are heading into town,” he says. “I told them to go ahead and set out early and I thought I’d go ahead and make supper for us tonight.”

“You can cook?”

“I’m hurt that there’s doubt in your tone.”

“I’m not doubting, I’m just…”

“Naturally skeptical, since I have not yet proven my worth to you.”

“You’ve more than proven your worth,” she says, softly, taking the teasing tone out of the conversation.

Mulder smiles at her and reaches out to cup her cheek. She wants to believe that she is worth the trouble if he can still touch her so fondly and make her feel so cared for.

“Need help with the laundry?” he asks.

“I’m nearly done, just need to get these shirts scrubbed and hang up this last basket to dry.”

“I can do that.” He squeezes past her to take the basket of damp clothing and then hoists it up over her head to squeeze back out. “That pulley you had Richard install is just about the most genius thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mulder takes the laundry away and she finishes with the shirts. She goes out to the back to pin them up and he lets her take over the line. She gets fresh linens on the beds, does some dusting, and cleans up the washroom. Before she’s through, she can smell the hearty aroma of meat cooking and hear the sizzle of the skillet.

“Pork chops?” she asks.

“I confess it’s about the only thing I can cook, but I do it well.”

“Should I chop anything?”

“No, Ma’am. I’ve had potatoes baking for some time and I brought up a jar of applesauce.”

“There are a few corn fritters leftover from dinner that I wrapped. We could heat those as well.”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Katherine sets the table for two. The pork chops are delicious. He shows her how to garnish a baked potato with chopped bacon and bits of chives and cheese, which she’d never seen done before. She tries to imagine an easy life with him and what it would have been like if only they’d met four years ago.

“Have you given any thought to what you’d like in the expansion?” he asks.

Katherine shakes her head. “There isn’t anything in particular that I can think of. I would like...well, I would like the porch to stay the way that it is. Facing west. I like watching the sunset.”

“I wouldn’t dream of changing that. I was thinking I might convert the bunkhouse into a guest house. And I’d like to have an office built on the other side of the kitchen. There must be something you’d like though. A parlor? Sewing room? Laboratory?”

She shakes her head at him and then laughs. “A laboratory?”

“Some place for the science things you enjoy.”

“No, thank you.” Her smile fades a bit as memories fall on her. “When I was a little girl, all I used to want was my own bookcase, filled with books, but my father said that reading novels was unladylike and would rot my brain and fill it with uppity ideas. I had a schoolteacher that did not agree, fortunately, and I did most of my reading in secret, with her help.”

“Is that the same teacher that got you interested in sciences?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a favorite novel?”

“Moby Dick always resonated with me.”

“Dense material for a young person, lady or gent. How did it resonate?”

“The ship’s captain, Ahab, reminded me very much of my father.” She closes her eyes for a few moments and then shakes the memories of her childhood from her head. Her family is not a subject she wishes to think about right now. “Do you think we could put in a magnolia tree somewhere?”

“I’ve never seen a magnolia out in these parts, but we can find out if the soil is right for it.”

“That’s all I want.”

“I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

She stands then to start clearing the dishes and to clean the kitchen. Mulder lays a hand on her arm, very gently.

“You could have your own library,” he says. “A room full of all your favorite books and all the ones you never got to read, but always wanted to.”

“The porch and the tree will be more than enough.”

He lets her go with a bit of reluctance and she goes on with her cleaning. He heads out to do the evening chores in the barn and stables. She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the evening. She is already lying in bed when she hears him come in by the soft tread of his boots on the wood floor that she’s grown accustomed to. She hears him open his door and there’s a long pause before he closes it.

She twists the wedding ring on her finger around and around. When she catches herself, she shakes her hands and then starts to do her rosary, but stops that as well. For nearly her entire life she’s been told that trusting in God and saying her prayers will bring her comfort and peace, but she’s never known it to be comforting at all. Certainly not in the four years when she could have used it the most. And she never knew peace until last night when she was with Mulder, so close with him, lying in his arms.

Maybe God led her here, or maybe He didn’t. Maybe it was fate, like Mulder said. The point is, if she wants peace, if she wants comfort, she knows where to find it. All she has to do is get up and walk across the hallway. Can she really ask him to do this for her though, when he’s already given her so much? And what has she given him in return?

Katherine sighs and twists her ring again. Finally, she kicks the sheets away and gets up from the bed. She unties her hair and shakes it loose before she goes to her door. It takes her some time to open it and then she stands in the dark for a few moments more before she tiptoes to his door. The floor creaks softly under her. She can see the lamplight shining dimly from under the bottom of his door. It takes her another few moments and a few deep breaths, but she knocks.

Mulder opens the door. He’s bare-chested and bare-footed. His suspenders are slung down by his thighs and the top button of his trousers is undone. He cocks his head in question and she drops her eyes for a few moments, but then looks back up at him.

“Could you hold me?” she asks.

He opens his mouth and then purses his lips and nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”


	21. Trying Again

He does not wake first the next morning. Her back is to him when he opens his eyes, but he can see her moving her fingers, twisting her wedding ring as he’s seen her do on occasion. Her hair is in his mouth again and he moves his head and runs a hand over the back of hers. She turns to look back at him.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning,” she answers.

She turns her head away, back towards the window. He turns his hand over and slides his palm under her fidgeting fingers. She stops twisting her ring and then laces her fingers with his. He’d like to kiss her. He’d like to touch her again, but he’s content to hold her like this for as long as she’ll let him. She shifts though, and he loosens his arms and lets her fingers slip out of his.

She only rolls over to face him though and they stay like that for some time, nearly nose to nose. He makes a move, shifting his pinkie finger over to hers and hooking them together. She smiles a little and gives it a light squeeze.

“We can try again,” she says. “If...if you’d like to.”

“I would like nothing more, but only if it’s what you really want as well.”

She reaches up and touches his face. He closes his eyes as her thumb skims over his brow and across his cheek and down his nose. She traces his lips and then touches his chin and then finally rests her hand on his chest. With his eyes closed, the images of her flicker though his mind like the spinning of a zoetrope; she’s arched beneath him or laying naked before him or looking up into his eyes as she touches him. It takes so little of her to get him aroused he’s almost ashamed of it.

She kisses him gently, just a whisper of her lips against his before she slides closer and slips her arm under his to wrap around his back. When she kisses him again, her lips are wet and he can feel the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip. He can’t help himself, he has to bring her in tighter. She moans softly as his hips press against her and his resolve to go slow is shattered.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, twisting her nightgown into a fist at the small of her back. He nuzzles her cheek with his nose and moves down to kiss her neck.

“You,” she whispers.

He’s never hated clothing before until now. Suddenly, it’s the worst thing ever to be created and he’s only wearing his drawers and she’s only wearing a nightgown and bloomers, but they can’t come off fast enough. Together, they get her nightgown unlaced and over her head. He has to stop then to touch her breast, to marvel at how perfectly it fits in his hand and how smooth her skin is and how her nipple tightens at his touch. This time, when he lowers his head, she doesn’t stop him. She runs her fingers through his hair and twists towards him when he takes her in his mouth.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, lifting his head to give the same attention to the other breast.

“Yes,” she answers.

Experimentally, he closes his teeth onto her nipple, not biting, but gently tugging and rubbing his tongue over the peak at the same time. She gasps and her hips push up into his. He pushes back and suddenly they’re rocking against each other and he has to lift his head. She clutches his head with both hands and he kisses her again. He’s starting to see stars he’s so breathless and his groin is so tight.

“I have to...I have to slow down,” he says.

“I don’t need you to.”

“But, I need me to.” 

“Alright.”

He chuckles a bit when he eases his hips away and she whimpers and rolls towards him. He rubs her hip and observes how her stomach clenches and how her lips tremble and how ragged her breathing is. He undoes the ties for her bloomers and pulls the front down just enough that he uncovers a fiery tuft of pubic hair. He runs his fingers over the soft and damp curls. The last time he touched her here he was surprised by how wet she was, how hot, how tight. Even though he knows what to expect now, he’s still caught off guard.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” she breathes.

He eases two fingers inside, moving deeper than he had before. He wishes he wasn’t so inexperienced. He knows there are ways to please a woman, but he doesn’t know what they are and all he wants is to make her feel as good as she makes him feel. He’s guessing by the way she’s rocking her hips with the motion of his hand that she likes it.

“Oh!” she cries, and she inhales with a stutter. “Oh...oh!” She clutches the sheets with one hand and with the other, she grabs onto his wrist and pushes the edge of his palm down against her pubic bone.

“Do you like that?” he asks.

“I…” She seems to have lost all speech.

He can feel something like a pull and a flutter of muscle and heat around his fingers. Her thighs start to shake and quiver and her hand takes a bone-crushing grip on his wrist. She cries out, a sharp yelp and then a whimper and then her face wrinkles as though she’s in agony.

“Kate?” he asks, going still. “Are you alright?”

“I…” She sucks in a breath and then her body seems to melt and relax. “Yes, I’m alright.”

“You’re not hurt? You look hurt.”

Her lips curl up slightly and she blinks slowly. “I’m not hurt at all.”

He eases his hand out from between her legs and finds it’s glistening and sticky with wetness from her. He studies it. He can smell her on his fingers, like damp earth, but headier. The scent of it goes straight to his cock, making him groan.

Katherine reaches down to unbutton his drawers and they make it past his hips, just enough to set his erection free. He grabs onto his weeping cock, lathers himself with her wetness and his own. She pushes her bloomers down to her knees and kicks them away and then opens herself to him. He doesn’t fumble this time, at least not as much. He watches as he glides into her, astounded that he fits so well, like sliding the most comfortable leather glove in the world onto his hand.

“I feel like you were made for me,” he tells her.

“I was.” She wraps her legs around his hips and pulls him so deep he doesn’t know where he stops and she begins.

↭

Katherine doesn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time she wakes, she’s alone in Mulder’s bed. There’s a faint aroma of coffee coming from down the hall and she frantically searches for her nightgown and bloomers that must be somewhere amongst the haphazard bedclothes. She finds her nightgown, pulls it on, and cautiously tiptoes across the hall to her room to get ready for the day.

Her hair is an unruly mess. As she multitasks trying to brush her curls into submission and don fresh clothes at the same time, she pauses as she notices a discoloration at the top of her breast in the mirror. She touches the red-purple blotch lightly. It doesn’t hurt at all, but it looks almost like a faint burn. She remembers that Mulder spent a fair amount of time kissing her there and wonders if his mouth somehow left a mark on her.

There’s no time to dwell on it. It must be late in the morning and she has so many things to do. Mulder shouldn’t have let her sleep. She doesn’t even know if the boys have made it back from their night in town yet and how embarrassing if they’re here and she didn’t even have breakfast on the table.

Dressed and hair tamed just enough, she scurries out into the dogtrot and then checks the grandfather clock. It’s nearly ten in the morning. She’s mortified. She hurries into the kitchen and finds it empty, but a pot of coffee is cooling on the table and there are remnants of a recently cooked meal. The collecting basket is full of eggs, so Mulder must’ve also been out to the chicken coop.

She finds Mulder outside, leading the cows out to the pasture while Queenie nips at the heels of the sheep that run past. He gives her a wave and a tip of the hat and she lifts her skirts to run out to him.

“You didn’t wake me,” she accuses.

“Was I supposed to?” He smiles at her over one of the cows and it moos at him as though she’s holding up their progress to the pasture.

“Well, of course. There are chores to do.”

“What chores? The laundry is done, the dusting is done, the boys won’t be around until later. It’s Sunday.”

“Yes, but…”

“Alright, next time I’ll wake you so you can invent things to do.”

“I should have at least made your breakfast.”

“I was happy to make my own breakfast. The coffee wasn’t as good though.” He smiles at her again over the impatient cow and then pulls off his gloves and tosses them to her. “You want to be useful, run on ahead and open up that fence so Queenie can get the sheep in.”

Katherine nods and jogs up past the sheep to the fence around the pasture. She puts Mulder’s gloves on and then pulls one of the posts down and then the other, opening it up so Queenie can lead her charges through to graze. Mulder soon follows with the cows and finally, the goats that have been dawdling behind and stopping to frolic, come bounding through to join the herd.

Mulder takes the gloves back from Katherine and closes the fence to keep the livestock inside. He puts his arm around her shoulders as they walk to the stables and she stops him before they get there and stands up on her toes to kiss him. He adjusts his hat and grins when she pulls away.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she answers, honestly. “Because I wanted to.”

He puts his arm around her again, this time around her waist, and she wraps her arms around his middle. They stay like that for some time, holding each other and smiling brightly. Katherine lays her head on Mulder’s chest and he strokes her hair. Finally, they break apart and he kisses her once more before he lets her go and they continue to the stables.

He’s mucking stalls and she’s combing horses when he hears someone calling for him. He pauses with the rake in one hand and she pauses with the currycomb in hers.

“Did that sound like Jimmy to you?” she asks.

“That’s what I thought too.” 

Mulder throws down the rake and runs out of the barn. Katherine hops down from the stool she’s standing on and drops the comb into a bucket before she rushes after him. She can see Jimmy coming up the road, riding hard. His horse is kicking up a cloud of dust behind him and even from so far away, she can see it snorting. Jimmy woah’s the horse to a stop and it trots in a circle and shakes its head, unable to slow it’s momentum so completely all at once. 

“What’s happened?” Mulder asks. “Where’s Jesse?”

“We were comin’ up over Cactus Pass when we seen a lone horse out yonder and rode up on it. She ain’t got no brand or nothin’ and was just standin’ all by herself midst of nowhere.”

“Indian pony?” Mulder asks.

“No, don’t reckon that. No markings at all. Jesse thinks she might’ve been left by a herd. She looks likely to drop a foal any day.”

“At this time of year?”

“We give her some oats and water and she was mighty grateful for it. Jesse’s bringing her in, but coming over slow since she can’t seem to move all that fast.”

“How far do you think he is?”

  
“Couple miles maybe. He told me to ride on ahead and let you know he was comin’ just after we crossed Bowman’s Creek.”

“Alright, go get your horse watered. I’ll tack up Blondie and head out to find them.”

Jimmy clucks at his horse and they ride off towards the stables. Mulder turns and starts hustling in the same direction and Katherine almost has to run to keep up with him.

  
“What can I do?” she asks.

“Get fresh hay into the stall next to Blondie. Move Faithful Jenny onto the other side too. A pregnant mare will do well to be between two friendly ladies.”

“Should we get someone in to take a look at her?”

“I don’t think Doctor Black deals in livestock and the nearest veterinarian is in Abilene. Too far to make much of a difference. Hopefully Melvin will be back soon. He’s got experience with foaling mares.”

Katherine gets to work on setting up an empty stall for the new horse. She’s spreading hay when she hears the wagon roll up and she can hear Jimmy outside giving the men the update. Melvin comes rushing into the stables and immediately starts helping her prepare the stall.

“Mulder said you have experience with foaling mares,” Katherine says.

“I worked at a stud farm for a time,” he answers. “Mostly grounds work, but I know the signs and I’ve been at a few births.”

“Is there something we can do?”

“They usually just take care of themselves. We just need to see that she’s comfortable.”

There’s whistling outside and Katherine and Melvin both leave the stables. The sun is high and Katherine shields her eyes to look towards the road. Mulder and Jesse are coming up. Jesse’s on his horse and Mulder is walking beside Blondie and another horse, moving slowly. Its head is down low as it ambles. Melvin walks out to greet them and he takes the rope around the new horse’s neck and brings it into the stable and into the fresh stall they’ve just prepared.

Jesse takes care of putting up his horse and Trevor takes Blondie from Mulder. Mulder stands beside Katherine outside the stall where the new horse is docilely letting Melvin look her over. She’s snow white with grey spots at her hindquarters and neck. 

“What do you think?” Mulder asks.

“I think she’s got a couple weeks left in her yet,” Melvin says. “Udder’s a bit swollen, but no milk yet. Don’t seem like the foal’s turnt yet and she ain’t soft yet in the uh...the birthin’ exit.”

“She’s beautiful,” Katherine says.

“What do you want to call her?” Mulder asks.

Katherine thinks on it for a few moments. “Mary,” she says.

Mulder laughs. “Well, that definitely is appropriate. Just please don’t make me name any little colts that might drop, Jesus.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of things,” Melvin says, frowning as he runs his hand across the horse’s belly.

“Why?” Mulder asks.

“Somethin’ don’t seem quite right, but I can’t say what it is. Just somethin’ don’t seem quite right.”

Katherine’s stomach sours and she swallows back a bit of bile that rises in her throat. Mulder turns to her and she turns away. Her knees begin to shake just a bit as she walks out of the stable. She feels Mulder’s hand at her back as the sun hits her face and she closes her eyes against it.

“Kate?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” she says. “Just needed some air is all. And...it’s about time I get started on noon dinner now that everyone is back home.”

“You want me to help you?”

She shakes her head. “You go on and help Melvin get Mary settled.”

He gives her a look like he doesn’t quite believe she’s alright and she gives him a small smile and then tips her head up and kisses his jaw. He bends and kisses her lips lightly and holds her hand even as she walks away. Their arms extend briefly and then their fingers slip free and her hand swings loosely at her side. She walks away slowly, keeping a normal pace even as she bites her lip and stomach rolls. She knows she’s going to be sick, she just needs to make it inside and out of sight before she does.


	22. Mary

His room is now their room, and the timing is perfect, considering the surveyor is due any day. When he opens the wardrobe now, her blouses and skirts and underthings live next to his. Her tin of hairpins sits next to his comb at the washstand. Her shawl hangs next to his jacket on the hooks behind the door.

They haven’t been physically intimate since the morning that Mary arrived and she tells him she’s having her women’s time. He only has the vaguest notion of what that means, but it must be why she’s paler than normal and a bit subdued. He’s asked her a few times if she feels okay and she always tells him she’s fine, but he knows that women’s time can bring pains and sickness, so he tries to be comforting in the ways he knows how. He rubs her back when they lay in bed together and he will embrace her when they find they have a moment alone. He always breathes a small sigh of relief when she embraces him back.

He notices she’s deeply concerned with the new horse and he doesn’t blame her. He has his own concerns. He’s rehabilitated and trained dozens of horses, but he’s never dealt with a pregnant mare and Melvin seems to think the poor gal is in some kind of danger and might need to be put down. He doesn’t want to have to do that, especially since Katherine is so taken with it.

The surveyor arrives, a Mr. Sean Pendrell. He brings maps and equipment with him that Katherine takes immediate interest in. His wife is actually a very shrewd advisor when it comes to the planning. She’s able to help design a layout for the new space which will give them a better access road to the town and save them a bit of headache when it comes to the new pasture. He didn’t think it would be possible to join the old with the new, but she found a way and even Mr. Pendrell was impressed.

As the days go by, both Mulder and Mr. Pendrell begin deferring to Katherine over certain elements of the plans. When they tour the old Goodwin property, she advises that the water pump should be considered central to where and how the additional buildings will be placed. There are times when Mr. Pendrell does speak up and step in, given his experience, and Katherine listens and insists that Richard be brought into the conversation and the three of them start speaking an engineering language that sounds like gibberish to Mulder and leaves him scratching his head most of the time.

Sheriff Doggett rides out with his boy, Luke, and Mulder shows them around the ranch. He can tell that the Sheriff is hesitant about letting his son come out and work for him and he tries his best to allay any concerns the man may have. It happens that Mr. Pendrell is working with Richard on a design the ranch hand wants to incorporate into the plans that looks like a small railroad to Mulder, but Richard has explained it’s a way to move feed and grain from place to place without a lot of effort and Luke gets himself involved in the conversation and suddenly he’s the one with the pencil marking up the sheets and explaining elements of woodworking that will help or hinder what Richard has in mind.

“Now, son, that’s not your place,” Sheriff Doggett says.

“No, please,” Mulder says. “If he’s going to be the one building things, he should have his say as well.”

Mulder thinks the respect the two men show to the younger boy is what may tip Sheriff Doggett over into agreeing to let him work the ranch. That, and the fact that he says himself he’s never seen his son so animated. Mulder shakes both of their hands before they go and says he looks forward to seeing Luke come December.

It takes roughly a week for Mr. Pendrell to do his surveying and to give them a rough draft of the plans for the expansion. He seems almost sad to leave them and says it was truly a pleasure to have worked on the designs. The finished plans will be sent to Mulder by way of a courier in a few weeks time.

With their guest gone, Mulder notices that Katherine returns to the subdued and distracted state she’d been in just before he arrived. She spends almost all her free time in the stables tending to Mary. Melvin, who has been just as watchful, thinks the foal might drop within the next few days. 

Every night after they go to bed, Mulder slips quietly out of Katherine’s arms, dresses in the other room in clothes he’s hidden in the wardrobe, and goes out to the stables to check on the progress. Melvin has been sleeping just outside of Mary’s stall every night.

“How are things?” Mulder asks.

“She’s restless,” Melvin says. “I think whatever’s gonna happen will be happenin’ tonight.”

“You still think something isn’t right?”

“Usually a foal dropped this late in the year is smaller. Her belly is bigger than I ever seen a horse get and she drags her legs like it’s burdensome to her.”

“Should I have tried to call a vet up from Abilene?”

“Don’t think it would’ve done any good either way. I expect she’s either going to drop a dead foal or she’ll die trying.”

Mulder sighs heavily when he spots Melvin’s pistol at his hip. Mulder has only had to put down one horse in his life and it was one of the worst things he’d ever had to do, but he knows that if the alternative is that the horse had to suffer, it was the right thing to do. If the time comes, and Mary needs to be spared, he only hopes that he can prevent Katherine from having to witness it.

He sits with Melvin for a bit and they share a thermos of coffee. Mulder tells him about the plans for the expansion and how his vision has changed based on what Katherine and Mr. Pendrell had devised. He reveals to him that Katherine has moved her things into his room and Melvin gives him a look that can only mean he’s stating an obvious fact.

Mary snorts softly and they get up to check on her just as she folds her knees and starts to lay down. She rolls to her back and kicks her feet and snorts.

“Is she alright?” Mulder asks.

“She’s laborin’ alright.”

They wait as the horse writhes and then she stops and rolls to her side. She stays that way and lets out a sigh. She’s still for so long that Melvin opens the door to the stall, muttering to himself.

“No, no, no,” he says. “Come on, girl, you can’t stay down there.”

“Melvin?”

“Go get Jesse and Jimmy, we gotta get her on her feet, and I mean now.”

Mulder sprints out of the stables to the bunkhouse. He calls for Jesse and Jimmy who groggily sit up in their beds and then jump up and start pulling their trousers on. When Mulder runs back he sees Katherine, in her nightdress and robe, coming out the back door.

“Go on back,” Mulder calls to her.

“What’s happening?” she asks.

“Mary’s laboring. Go on back to bed.”

Katherine doesn’t listen, she runs to the stables with him and he tries to stop her, but she pushes past him to Mary’s stall. Jesse and Jimmy come tripping into the door behind her, shirts half-buttoned and shoes unlaced.

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asks.

“We’ve got to get her up,” Melvin says. “Boys, get in here and help me.”

The men file into the stall and stand behind the horse with Melvin. He directs them to push, and they put all their energy into it, but she doesn’t budge. They push again, and again, and Mary just sighs and snorts. Katherine watches through the bars on the stall door.

“Come on, girl,” Melvin says. “Come on.”

They push and push and Mulder is sweating and grunting, but the horse refuses to move. Finally, Melvin waves them to stop and he strokes the horse’s neck a bit and then feels her belly. He wipes his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt and then looks at Mulder and gives a small shake of his head. Mulder looks at Katherine through the bars.

“Go on to bed, honey,” he says. “You don’t want to be here.”

“No!” she cries, and rushes into the stall. She pushes Mulder’s arms away when he tries to block her and drops to her knees beside the horse. “Don’t give up, Mary,” she says. The horse snorts a little and Katherine strokes its cheek gently. “I know it hurts, I know you’re tired, but you have to get up. Get up, Mary. Get up!”

“Kate,” Mulder says.

“Push,” she orders. “Get back there and push. She’s not done fighting.”

The men bend down again and on Katherine’s order, they push and Mary lifts her head and kicks her feet a bit. Again, Katherine demands, and they push and Mary flails and gives a bellow and drops her head to Katherine’s lap.

“Don’t you quit on us,” Katherine tells her. “Get up, Mary. Get up! Push!”

Mulder puts everything he has into pushing on the horse’s shoulder and by some miracle, Mary rolls to her belly. She stands slowly, flanks quivering and glistening with sweat. Melvin tells Jesse and Jimmy to get him some towels and blankets. Mary drops her head to Katherine’s shoulder and breathes hard. Katherine strokes her neck and speaks softly to her.

“That’s a girl,” she says. “You did it.”

Mulder leaves the stall and doubles over with his hands on his knees and breathes hard. Melvin comes up next to him and takes a backwards glance at the stall and then down at Mulder.

“We ain’t outta the woods yet,” Melvin says.

↭

Katherine knows that Mulder has been sneaking out to the stables every night. He may think he’s doing a good job hiding it from her, but she’s been on to him from the very first time he slipped out of bed and the spare clothes were easy to find in the wardrobe in her old room. She lets him think he’s getting away with it though so that they don’t have to have a conversation about it.

The window in the kitchen offers her a decent view of the stable door and she’s taken to moving a chair from the table to sit and keep watch. Most nights, he’s not out there long. An hour, maybe a bit more. Tonight, she waits almost two full hours for him to come out of the stable and when he does, she knows immediately that something isn’t right. She watches him race across the yard and nearly take the door off the bunkhouse when he bursts in.

By the time Katherine runs to put on her robe and her shoes, Mulder is racing back to the stables and she’s right behind him. He tries to get her to go back inside, but there’s no way she’s going to keep back when she knows something is wrong.

Seeing Mary on the ground, lying still as though she’s already given up before she’s even started, puts a vice on her heart and squeezes the breath out of her. The men want to quit and Mulder wants her to leave, but she’s spotted the pistol at Melvin’s hip and she won’t let any of them give in so soon.

If there is a higher power, she begs that it gives Mary the strength she needs to get back on her feet. She begs God for his mercy in her mind and begs the horse out loud to not give up. And it works. They get Mary to her feet and she prays that the worst is now over. Jesse and Jimmy go back to bed.

Melvin rubs the sweaty horse down to keep her from getting a chill and drapes a horse blanket over her. He tells Katherine it’s best to let her be and let nature take its course from here. Katherine is reluctant to leave, but she joins Mulder and Melvin outside the stall where they sit and sip cold coffee from a thermos together as they wait.

Katherine prays, only instead of rubbing her thumbs and index fingers together in a phantom rosary, she silently twists her wedding ring. Mulder puts his hand over hers eventually and tucks her close to his side and under his arm.

Mary whinnies softly and they all jump up from the floor. The horse is stomping one foot on the ground and craning her neck to bite at her hindquarters. Her tail is swishing like mad. She stomps her foot again and stretches her neck up as she whinnies and bellows. She shifts to the side of the stall and starts to lean on it and stomp her foot.

“Is she supposed to be doing that?” Mulder asks.

“No,” Melvin answers, with a slightly frustrated growl.

Katherine goes into the stall. A horse may not be a woman, but the concept has got to be the same. She knows the clinical stages from the textbooks she’s read and if she can apply that knowledge here, she’s going to do it. She runs her hand down Mary’s neck and shoulder.   
  


“You be careful, now,” Melvin says. “A horse in distress is liable to lash out.”

That sends Mulder into the stall after her. She glances at him and moves slowly back along the horse’s side.

“I’ve heard people say you know how to talk to the horses,” Katherine says. “Talk to her. Tell her we’re here to help.”

“I’ll try.” Mulder leans close and puts his cheek next to Mary’s and whispers to her.

Katherine eases her hand across the horse’s backside. She’s afraid of getting kicked more than anything and doesn’t want to do anything that might startle the horse. Her tail is swishing like mad and she can see there’s a protrusion forming at the ‘birthin’ exit’ as Melvin had called it. There’s a sudden gush of fluid and she steps back a little to avoid getting splattered.

“Melvin,” she says.

“The sac’s busted,” he says. “It’s good. It means the foal’s comin’. You see any hooves yet?”

“I think...yes, I think there is a hoof here.”

“Pointed up or down?”

“Down”

“Good, good. She just needs to push now.”

Katherine looks at Mulder and runs her hand along Mary’s back and belly. He stares at her as he whispers to the horse and she can feel the horse’s ribs almost undulate. Mary strains hard, but the hoof that had made its way out of her disappears.

“No,” Katherine whispers. “Come on, Mary.”

Mary shudders and a hoof appears again and more of a leg. When she strains again this time she kneels and both Mulder and Katherine have to jump out of the way as she collapses onto her side.

“It’s alright!” Melvin calls, before either of them start to panicking. “With the foal broke through now, she might stay down.”

Mulder crouches by Mary’s head and rubs her cheek as Katherine crouches at the back of her and keeps her eye on the progress. The laboring continues and Mary rolls and snorts a few times, each time bringing only just a bit more of the foal into view. And then she stops rolling again and takes a deep breath. Her eyes close and she just breathes.

“Don’t let her stop,” Melvin says. “She’s got to keep going.”

“Come on, Mary,” Mulder says. “You want to meet your little one, don’t you? We all want to meet your little one. You can do it.”

Mary snorts a little, but doesn’t move. It’s clear she’s exhausted. Katherine’s chin begins to quiver and her eyes fill with tears. 

“Come on,” Mulder pleads.

“Please,” Katherine murmurs. “Please, Mary.”

Mary takes another deep breath and rolls to her belly. She lifts her hind end up and her hindquarters shiver with exertion. Her hooves start to slip under her and Katherine knows she’s going to go down any minute and if she does, she may not get up. Without thinking too much about it, she reaches out and grabs onto the foal’s leg and then slides her arm up and into Mary’s body. 

“Tell her to push,” Katherine yells. “Push, Mary.”

“Push, Mary,” Mulder says. “Come on, girl.”

Katherine can feel Mary strain hard and she pulls at the same time. She pulls as hard as Mary pushes, but the foal is slick and there isn’t much purchase to take. She digs her knees into the ground and clutches the knee of the foal into her chest and pulls as hard as she can.

Mary gives a whinny and Katherine starts to fall backwards with the foal sliding free and into her lap.

“I’ll be dadgummed!” she hears Melvin cry.

“Oh my God,” Mulder whispers.

Mary shudders and then throws her head back to see her baby. It’s then that Katherine realizes that there’s not just one foal draped across her lap, there are two. They’re small and almost twisted together, both squirming to get free. She starts to laugh out of sheer relief and slides out from under the foals so that they can get free and learn how to stand on their own. 

“Twins!” Melvin marvels. “That is rarer than a hen’s tooth right there.”

“Kate, you did it,” Mulder says. He starts to try to hug her, but she’s covered in gore and he hesitates.

She looks down at herself and at the blood and slime that covers her hands and she laughs harder. Suddenly though, she takes a shuddering breath and begins to sob. She cries so hard that she nearly falls to her knees, but Mulder catches her and lifts her up and takes her out of the stall.

“You did it,” Mulder tells her. “Honey, you did it. What’s wrong?”

It takes her some time to catch her breath and though she feels weak and like her throat is too pinched to speak, she looks up at him and whispers, “I’ll tell you everything.”


	23. Katherine's Story

“Go on,” Melvin says to Mulder. “Take care of your wife. I’ve got the horses.”

Mulder holds Katherine close and takes her out of the stables. She’s weeping, hiding her face in his neck and clutching at his shirt. He can feel her tears against his skin and her trembling against his chest. Her choked little cries are tearing him apart.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs to her, over and over again. “You’re alright, I’ve got you.”

He brings her into the washroom and kicks the laundry washtub over so he can set her down on something. He’s able to keep an arm around her as he lights the furnace and then shifts her from one side to the other so he can work the pump and fill the bathing tub. He finds a bottle of bathing oil in the cabinet and pours a bit in. The room suddenly smells of roses. 

“We’re gonna get you warm,” he tells her. “And clean.”

“I’ll never be clean,” she whispers, and drops her head into her hands and cries harder.

“Yes, you will.”

When the bathing tub is full and the water is warm enough, he undoes the knot holding Katherine’s robe closed and pushes the ruined garment off her shoulders. Her nightgown has a few stains on it and can probably be salvaged, but he’ll throw them both out anyway. He’ll buy her a dozen new nightgowns and robes, ones that aren’t soiled or hold any terrible memories in them.

“My hair will get wet,” she says to him, when he tries to get her into the bathing tub. He runs to their room and gets the box of hairpins for her. He takes a cloth and wipes her hands clean and then she winds her braid up high on her head and even with no looking glass and shaking fingers, manages to pin it into place and off her neck.

“Okay?” he asks.

Katherine nods and then takes the hand that Mulder offers and climbs into the bathing tub. She folds up almost immediately with her legs bent and her back hunched and her head resting on her knees. Mulder takes up the rag, soaks it in the bathwater and then washes her back.

“I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me,” Katherine murmurs, her voice slightly muffled by her legs.

“I think the world of you,” he answers. “That will never change.”

She turns her face towards him and rests her cheek on her knees. He just keeps washing her back and shoulders, rubbing soft circles into her skin with the cloth. She blinks slowly at him and in her eyes he can see the pain and exhaustion of a heavy burden she’s been carrying.

“I’ve loved you from the day I met you,” he says. “And loved you even more every day since. Whatever it is, Kate, I promise you without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll still love you even more tomorrow.”

She breathes deep, ribs contracting under his hand, and then exhales swiftly. “My father is a Navy captain,” she says. “He’s highly respected and very strict. And my mother is very pious. They’re both very set in their ways. The only person I fear more than my father, or my mother, is God.”

“Mmhm.”

“I have an older brother named Bill. Bill Jr. And I have two younger sisters, Melissa and Charlotte. I was very close with Melissa. I miss her terribly.”

“Did something happen to them?”

“No.” She blinks without really closing her eyes and her head sways slightly. “My father didn’t believe much in education for girls, I think I’ve told you as much, but I begged him to stay in school. He told me I could stay until I turned sixteen and then I would have to prepare to be married. I agreed, even though I wanted so badly to be a doctor that I secretly applied to medical colleges, hoping that if one said yes, he would have to let me go. Well, there was one college that accepted me, but my father still wouldn’t let me go.”

“You were accepted to medical college?”

Katherine nods and sniffles quietly. “I told him that if he refused to let me go, then I would refuse to marry any man he tried to match me with. He said that it was my duty to marry well and that if I refused to do so, he’d put me out on the street. I said I would go happily if it meant I would no longer be under his tyrannical thumb. It’s the only time I’ve ever defied my father and I did think then he would turn me out, but instead he struck a compromise with me and said I was allowed to go to a nurse’s training school that was nearby, but that once I’d complete the training, I should have to find a husband.”

Katherine turns her face back into her knees and sighs heavily. Mulder drops the cloth into the bathing tub and massages the back of her neck. He waits for her to continue, wanting her to alleviate herself of this load, but not wanting to push her too far. The balance between encouragement and pressure is delicate.

“There was a doctor there,” she says. “Doctor Waterston. Everyone revered him, including me. Listening to him lecture, you knew right away he was brilliant. When I had my placement interview, I told him that I hoped to be a doctor one day and he seemed to take an interest in helping me. He allowed me to attend his surgeries and even permitted me to perform a few minor ones of my own, instructing me every step of the way.”

“You’ve performed surgeries?”

She turns to look at him again and nods a little. “I’ve removed a bullet from a shoulder and closed the wound and amputated a foot.”

“Incredible.”

Katherine swallows and her body weaves slightly as she closes her eyes. “Doctor Waterston invited me to dinner one night and told me he’d just received a new medical text that he thought I’d be interested in and took me to his personal office to look at it. He told me he saw a lot of potential in me and knew I could be as brilliant of a doctor as he was, one day.”

A feeling of dread creeps up Mulder’s spine. There is something about the monotone change in Katherine’s voice leads him to expect something sinister to come up.

“He…” Her voice hitches slightly and pinches off.

“You don’t have to say it, Kate, if you can’t.”

“I need to.” She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “He offered me a glass of brandy, which I did not accept, and then he offered me a glass of water and...and he sat beside me on the sofa as I tried to review the text. I remember thinking that I felt a bit uncomfortable because he was sitting so close. And then...and then I couldn’t focus and I felt very tired and my limbs felt paralyzed. I told him that I felt strange and he said it was nothing to worry about. But...then he was holding me down and I did not know why and I told him he was hurting me and he got very angry and told me to stop talking and he put his hand over my mouth. I remember that there was some kind of stain on the ceiling and I stared at it. I don’t know how long I stared at it.”

Mulder feels like he’s going to vomit. He breathes in and out through his nose and rubs Katherine’s back, but he thinks he might be coming out of his skin. He would like to find this Doctor Waterston and rip him apart with his bare hands.

“I don’t remember getting home,” she says. “I remember waking the next morning and feeling ill and...and very sore between my legs. After that night, he behaved as though I was a stranger. He didn’t call on me in class, didn’t offer to allow me to observe any surgeries, and didn’t seem to acknowledge I existed at all. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong and I was sick over it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must have let him believe he could touch me.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought he was being kind and he took advantage of you.”

“My father had told me that no good would come of me going to school and he was right. God has been punishing for my ambition.”

“I don’t believe that. I don’t believe that at all.”

“I was so sick about the whole thing that I went to see a specialist about the constant nausea and body aches I was experiencing. He told me I was with child and I told him I didn’t know how that was possible because I wasn’t married. He must have thought I was so ignorant. I was ignorant, though. I’d...I’d read about pregnancy and childbirth in my medical texts, but nothing told me how it happened. My mother told me only married women could have babies. I know now how ill-informed I was.”

Katherine pauses there and then lifts her head. She tilts her face up and Mulder can see the slow tears that run down her cheeks and drip from her chin. He wipes them away, but they keep coming.

“I tried to tell Doctor Waterston about my condition, but he told me would publicly accuse me of blackmail and have me expelled from the program. He said that no one would believe me if I said the baby was his and that the word of a respected doctor meant more than that of a fallen woman. And then he gave me a five dollar note and the name of another doctor that he said would get rid of the problem.”

“Oh, Kate.”

“I didn’t. I couldn’t. That would be a sin.” She shakes her head. “I left school. I told my mother what had happened and she was very upset with me. She didn’t know how I could do such a vile and wicked thing and bring such shame to the family. She didn’t know where she went wrong to raise such a common whore of a daughter and said the devil had to have taken hold of me and the best I could do now was repent for my sins and pray that He would forgive me.”

“You did not do anything wrong,” Mulder says, emphatically. “I am sorry that your mother said those things to you, but you have to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Mulder does not know how to soothe her. He was not raised religious and until now has held no real opinions on the church, but his blood is boiling. He will forever hold malice in his heart for the ideology that would make the most wonderful woman he’s ever met feel so worthless and wicked.

“Believe me,” he says. “Trust in me when I tell you that you are not sinful.”

Katherine sighs. She sniffles and wipes a wet hand down her face. “Then why was I punished so harshly?” she whispers.

His mouth goes dry and his heart feels like it drops into his gut. Her sorrow pains him. He remembers once that he happened upon his aunt in her study while she was reviewing correspondences and she seemed very angry over a letter she had received. When he asked her what was wrong, she told him that women were always suffering for the whims of men. And then she’d stared at him hard and told him to never, ever trifle with a lady unless he intended to be a husband or a father. He was eight years old at the time, but he’d never forgotten it. And he vowed then and there to never, ever have a whim, whatever that might be.

He looks at his wife and he knows she has suffered, more than he even first suspected. He wishes he’d known her sooner. Wishes he could have had occasion to bump into her one day before anything bad had happened to her. Because he knows deep in his heart that he would have known right then and there that he would marry her, just as he knew a few months ago. At the very least, maybe if he’d gotten to her first, she would not have married Jack Willis. But, how did that happen?

“How did you come to marry Jack Willis?” he asks.

“My father knew of him and knew he had some sort of trouble with a debt. He offered to pay the debt if he would marry me. Jack agreed, but I don’t think that either of us knew that even though I now had a husband, my parents told me I had to leave and never to come back. They said I was a bad influence over my sisters. They said I could ruin their chances for a good marriage. They thought that if anyone were to ever find out the truth about the baby...”

Katherine trails off and then turns her face up again. Tears leak so constantly down her cheeks he’s afraid she may never stop crying, but she’s silent and her gaze becomes utterly vacant.

“Kate, what...what happened to the baby?”

“Jack had people in Kentucky and so he took me there. A lot of that time is...I have a hard time remembering some of it.” Katherine wrinkles her forehead and closes her eyes. She touches her face with her fingertips like her head is aching. “They weren’t very kind to me, or to Jack. An Aunt or a cousin of his said she was a midwife and said she’d see to me when the time came. It wasn’t that long before I started having pains one night and bleeding, but I had barely let out my skirts by then and I knew it was much too soon. To answer your question, I don’t know what happened to the baby. They wouldn’t let me see it. I’d lost a lot of blood and was too weak to protest. Jack said it was just as well since he didn’t want to raise a bastard anyhow.”

“That sonofabitch,” Mulder mutters, before he can stop himself. He grits his teeth in anger. Jack Willis is lucky he’s already dead.

“There were three more babies that came and went after that. I think they must have known what kind of world they might be coming into and it was a blessing that they decided not to stay. I wanted each one of them, I truly did, but I didn’t know how I would protect them when I couldn’t even protect myself.”

Kate breathes out a huge sigh after that and drops her head to her knees once more. Her shoulders start to shake and Mulder feels his throat constrict and his eyes burn with his own tears. He cries with her and for her, resting his head against the back of her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her.

↭

She’s never felt so exhausted in all her life. She wants to lay down, curl up, and sleep for days. Her eyes burn with four years worth of tears. She’s cried herself dizzy and it takes her some time to realize that Mulder is crying as well. She reaches up to run her fingers through his hair. He turns his face and kisses her shoulder.

“I’ll understand if you want me to go,” she says.

“Not a chance in hell, honey.” He lifts his head and cups her cheek. “I knew you were strong, I knew you were brave, I just didn’t know how strong and how brave.”

“I don’t feel very strong. Or brave.”

“You are.”

“I’m so tired.”

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mulder helps her out of the bathing tub and wraps her in a towel. He lifts her easily and carries her to bed. He gets her into fresh nightclothes and undresses down to his drawers and then climbs into bed with her and pulls her tight into his arms. They’re face to face, nearly nose to nose.

“I am terribly sorry that I lied to you,” she says.

“You never lied, you just needed time.”

“I was just so afraid that...I didn’t want you to know how low I really was.”

“It never would have mattered to me. It doesn’t matter to me now.”

“I believe that you mean that.”

“I do.” He shifts and holds her cheek, stroking her brow with his thumb. “There’s something that I should tell you too. Something about my family as well.”

“Alright.”

“Are you familiar with Fawkes Publishing House?”

“I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you know the writer, E. M. Abbott?”

“Of course. I read all his books. They call him the Charles Dickens of the Americas.”

“Mm.” Mulder chuckles. “E. M. Abbott is my aunt.”

“Your aunt?” Katherine pulls back a bit from Mulder and opens her mouth, aghast. “E. M. Abbott is your aunt? The aunt that raised you?”

“Yes, great aunt Emeline. My grandmother and Auntie were the daughters of William Fawkes, who started Fawkes Publishing House. When my aunt began writing at a young age, her father told her no one would buy books written by women, but he still thought she was extraordinarily talented and of course he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity. He told her he would publish her works under a pseudonym. Everyone called her Em since she was a young girl and she liked Abbott because it was the first name she could think of that came first, alphabetically. And so Emeline Beatrice Fawkes became E. M. Abbott.”

“That’s extraordinary.”

“And a well-guarded secret in publishing.”

“How sad though, that she could never get the recognition she deserved.”

“Oh, Auntie actually enjoyed that she’d so thoroughly pulled the wool over the literary community’s eyes. She took great delight in reviews that particularly focused on her unique perspective that was like ‘no other man.’ I would tend to get angry on her behalf though. I found it very unfair, very unjust.”

“It is.”

Mulder nods. “I have done my best to try to change things though. Fawkes Publishing puts out more novels by women than any other major house out there.”

“What?” Katherine raises her brow slightly. “When you said that sometimes you conduct business in Boston, what did you mean by that?”

“I sit on a board representing the family’s remaining interests in the company. We don’t necessarily handle any of the day-to-day anymore, but we own a significant share, which gives us, or me, rather, a fair amount of control. Let me tell you, publishing women writers has proved to be profitable over the years. Extremely profitable, actually.”

She ducks her head a little and snorts softly. “I was a little worried at how freely you spent your money.”

“I can assure you that money is not something you’ll ever have to worry about.”

“I think you could have absolutely nothing and I would still love you.”

Mulder lifts his head from the pillow and leans up on his elbow. “You love me?” he asks.

“I do.”

He smiles and then lays back down and pulls her against him with a sigh. She tucks her head down under his chin and wraps her arm around his back. A strip of moonlight shimmers on his arm and she gazes at it with heavy eyelids. She must be very tired or her imagination is playing tricks on her, but his skin seems to radiate a brilliant blue hue mixed with a bit of red.


	24. Epilogue

There’s a bookcase in their room built by Luke Doggett that Mulder has filled with books of all kinds. He’s glad they decided to extend the bedroom out when they did the expansion because it takes up a lot of space. He’s also glad for the extra room because it means, while Katherine paces back and forth, he can follow behind and not bump into too many things.

Katherine stops suddenly and leans onto the bookcase. She moans deeply and Mulder holds her from behind and rubs her hips.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Monica says. “Just breathe through it. Keep breathing.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down?” Mulder asks. “Just for a little while.”

Katherine hisses through her teeth and shakes her head. Her forehead wrinkles and she moans again and clutches Mulder’s hand so tightly he’s sure it might break. Monica comes over and puts her hand on Katherine’s belly.

“I think having a lie down might be a good idea about now,” Monica says.

Mulder puts his arm around Katherine and moves her to the bed. He helps her to sit while Monica stacks the pillows up at the head of the bed.

“You’re the first husband I’ve had at a birth,” Monica says.

“I’m not leaving.”

“It’s fine by me if it’s fine by Katherine.”

“Don’t go,” Katherine whispers to him. 

“I won’t,” he tells her.

“I need him here,” Katherine says to Monica.

“Whatever you need, you’ll have.” Monica nods and then she helps move Katherine up to the pillows and she tells her to shift down a bit and bring her knees up so she can check the baby’s progress.

The miraculous arrival of the twin fillies is the only birth that Mulder has attended in his life. He skimmed through one of Katherine’s textbooks on obstetrics to have an idea of what he might be in for, but he found it to be so terrifying he had to stop reading. It doesn’t seem possible, even though he knows it has to be.

He’s never seen his wife as scared as she’s been throughout this pregnancy. She’s been terrified of losing the baby and he understands her fears. Every night he’s gently caressed her growing belly and whispered to the baby how wonderful the world will be when he or she arrives. You’ll have your own cradle made especially for you by Luke Doggett. You’ll have your own horses to play with and one day I’ll buy you a pony with a little cart, would you like that? You’ll have all the picture books I can find and I’ll read to you every night. You’ll have the very best, most brave, most wonderful, most beautiful, most special, most loving, most fierce, most smartest Mama in all of the world. But, you just stay nice and cozy where you’re at for now. Stay until the time is right, okay? 

Katherine grits her teeth and then comes up away from the pillows onto her hands and whimpers pathetically. Mulder looks at Monica who is nodding encouragingly and rubbing Katherine’s belly.

“When it grips you again like before, you go ahead and push,” Monica says. “Mulder, why don’t you give her a nice place to lean into to help.”

Mulder scoots closer so that Katherine can lean back into his chest. She’s breathing hard and there’s sweat beading across her hairline. He holds her hands and then her body grows stiff and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Push, Katherine,” Monica says. “That’s it.”

Katherine groans and then she falls limp in Mulder’s arms. He feels the same helpless panic he felt when he was trying to help the horse drop her foal. He knows he’s utterly useless and he can’t stand to be. When Katherine’s body goes stiff again, he drops his head and starts to whisper the same things he whispered to Mary.

“You’re the only one that can do this,” he says. “But, you’re strong and you’re brave and I believe in you. You can do it.”

“Just a little more,” Monica says. “You’re doing great.”

“Almost,” Mulder whispers. “You can do it.”

Katherine lolls a little against Mulder’s chest and then she takes a deep breath and pushes again. Her face grows red with exertion and she cries out before she deflates. A different kind of shivery little cry fills the room. Monica laughs and begins toweling off the squalling infant as quickly as possible and then passes the little bundle into Katherine’s arms.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new little filly,” Mulder whispers.

Katherine starts crying and brings the baby up to kiss her head. She has little wispy blonde curls that Mulder runs his hand over. The baby looks at him and he swears one of her eyebrows lifts inquisitively just like her mother’s.

“Look at those blue eyes,” he says.

“All babies have blue eyes,” Katherine murmurs.

“This blue? They look like the ocean.”

“Well, what are you gonna call her?” Monica asks.

“I want to name her after Mulder’s aunt,” Katherine answers.

“Oh that’s sweet. What was your aunt’s name?”

“Hortense,” Mulder answers, and then laughs at the look on Monica’s face. “Emeline was her name. But, I think we agreed on Emily Eliza if it was a girl.”

Katherine nods.

“Hey…” Mulder eases out from behind Katherine. “What day is it?”

“I heard the clock in the hall chime at midnight a little while ago,” Monica answers. “September 9th, 1888. She’s a seven. She’s going to be very contemplative.”

“It’s two years to the day from when we first met,” Mulder says. 

“Only two years?” Katherine wonders. “It feels as though we’ve been together forever.”

“Forever is ahead of us, not behind.” Mulder smiles as the baby yawns and reaches out to touch her tiny hand. She curls her fingers around his with a tight grip. 

↭

The year before Emily was born they took a trip to Boston with a stop in New York City to see the electrical lightbulbs that Katherine had wanted to see. She was definitely impressed by the invention, but will always prefer the softness of lamplight to the glow of a bulb. Of all people, she will be the most reluctant to modernize their home while it’s Mulder that will marvel at the on and off switches that bring light and darkness and later, he will never get enough of the telephone, sometimes simply picking up the handset to chat with the switchboard operator in town just because he can.

Three years after Emily is born, William Abbott, known by all as Liam, will come along. By then, Emily’s blonde hair will have turned dark, like her father’s, but she’ll keep her deep blue eyes. Mulder will often turn and think he sees the ghost of his sister running towards him as she grows. Liam inherits his mother’s red hair and freckles, but his father’s hazel eyes and mischievous sense of humor that keeps everyone on their toes.

Doctor Black makes Katherine an offer that Mulder tells her she’d be crazy to refuse. He sponsors an apprenticeship for her in lieu of formal schooling and after five years time, she receives her medical certificate. When he retires, Katherine takes over the practice and the lady doctor that drives her own carriage through town becomes the pride of the town.

Emily will follow in her mother’s footsteps in some ways, her interest in science and medicine apparent from a very young age, but her love of animals pulls her in a different direction. She studies to become a veterinarian. When her husband is taken in World War I, she will come back to the ranch with her own young daughter in tow, seeking the peace and comfort of her childhood.

Liam takes a keen interest in literature and tears through all the books on his mother’s bookshelf before he’s eight years of age. His favorite thing to do is to listen to the stories his father tells, ones he can’t quite determine are real or exaggerated, but that are always about how brave and strong and magical his mother is.

“Kids,” Mulder will say as they sit on the porch. “Did I ever tell you about the time your mother shot a panther?”

“There aren’t any panthers in Texas, Daddy,” Emily will tell him.

“That’s because they got wind of your mother’s aim and they all packed up and moved to Mexico.”

“Mulder, you weren’t even there.” Katherine will roll her eyes when he starts his tales.

“I had gone to Fort Worth to pick up some horses and your mother stayed behind with Pappy Melvin…”

Liam will take these stories and write them down and turn them into Fawkes Publishing House’s number one bestselling children’s series of the 1920s called Amazing Kate, about a young girl living on a ranch in the Texas plains who can do anything and everything. He marries a suffragette he meets while tending to family business in Boston. One of their sons will pen a biography of his E. M. Abbott, sending shockwaves through the literary community and winning a Pulitzer.

When the children are small, Katherine will often wonder about her sister’s and where they are and if they’ve married and if they have children of their own. Mulder will offer time and time again to track them down, but ultimately, Katherine decides against it. She has made her own family here and Monica and Susannah are close enough to her to feel like the sisters she lost. Mary Katherine Scully was her past and she has put it behind her. She is and will forever now be Kate Mulder.

The ranch is only ever moderately successful and the need for trained horses dies out with the expansion of the railroad and the popularity of the automobile. It suits Mulder fine and they simply become a haven for abused and neglected animals. 

Ranch hands come and go. Trevor discovers a talent for building furniture through Luke Doggett. Mulder sponsors their talents by starting them up with a business in Fort Worth where they form a successful partnership and their furniture is sold world-wide. Richard announces one day that he thinks it’s about time he moves on, and then he just disappears. Jesse and Jimmy are offered positions as lead trainers in a traveling rodeo that they hesitate to accept, but Mulder tells them they’d be crazy not to take the opportunity to travel the country. Melvin stays with them until he passes on and they bury him beneath the magnolia tree that in twenty years time, has reached an impressive height of forty feet and blooms pink at the start of every summer. 

The years go by and Mulder and Katherine will be alone on their porch sometimes, sitting side by side watching the sunset. Mulder will reach out and Katherine will take his hand and he’ll give it a squeeze.

“Just think where we might have ended up if Faithful Jenny hadn’t thrown that shoe that day,” he’ll say to her, for maybe the hundredth time since they’ve been married. “The day that changed my life forever.”

Katherine will roll her eyes at him, also for the hundredth time. “Any number of things had already changed your life forever,” she’ll say.

“But, specifically, if Faithful Jenny hadn’t thrown that shoe…”

“And if you didn’t leave Massachusetts, and if your father hadn’t sent you to live with your aunt, and if your aunt never bought you that pony for your birthday…”

“So, you agree, A leads to B, leads to C, leads to Jenny throwing that shoe.”

“I think we’d still be right here on this porch. That’s what I think.”

“Kate, are you admitting you believe in fate?”

“I’m admitting nothing.”

Mulder will smile and squeeze her hand as she twists her wedding ring around her finger with her thumb.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is to thank you ALL for reading and commenting. I appreciate each and everyone one of you very much!
> 
> I thought I might include a few of the more interesting pieces I read in my research, if anyone is interested.
> 
> The Texas Almanac: https://texasalmanac.com/topics/history  
> A Writer's Guide to the 19th Century: http://backinmytime.blogspot.com/  
> Early Pioneer Days in Texas by J. Taylor Allen: http://www.milamcountyhistoricalcommission.org/history_1022.php  
> Popular Science archives (yes, the articles Kate lists are real) https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/serial?id=popularscience
> 
> Special thanks to @sunflowerseedsandscience on tumblr for reviewing chapters and letting me pick her brain and I'd like to close with something user KoishiQ shared with me that I think represents this fic in a spot-on way: an Italian ballad Il peso della valigia by Luciano Ligabue - selected lyrics below (full lyrics here: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/il-peso-della-valigia-weight-suitcase.html-0#songtranslation)
> 
> You came all this way to get here  
> and you had to leave as a child  
> with a little cardboard suitcase  
> that you started to fill
> 
> two leaves from that clearing already no longer there  
> fake lipsticks and a box of jewels  
> and the suitcase started to get heavy  
> you still had to leave
> 
> and the eyes reached the color of the sky  
> by dint of looking at it  
> and with those eyes what you were seeing  
> no one can know
> 
> and you gave yourself, you took something, who knows  
> but the words which remained  
> ended up all in the suitcase  
> and there they stayed
> 
> and your legs were always going  
> just constantly slower  
> and your arms were holding barely  
> the weight of the suitcase
> 
> You came all this way to get here  
> but maybe now you can rest  
> a hot bath and something cool  
> to drink and to eat
> 
> I'll open the suitcase while you stay there  
> and little by little I'll show you  
> there were just four butterflies  
> a little harder to die


End file.
